Such Fragile Creatures
by Kemurikat
Summary: The Avengers re-imagined! LOKI falls to Earth and awakens in a mortal form. Thor decides to pursue his love for Jane Foster. The fledgling Avengers team takes shape. Asgard & Midgard collide in ways unexpected! AU. Multiple (and some unexpected) pairings. OC. Warning: bad language & mature subject matter. Myth & Movie. -WIP-
1. The Mortal Coil

Disclaimer:

Thor the movie, the Avengers and other Marvel characters belong to Marvel Comics and Paramount Pictures. This story was written purely for entertainment purposes and is dedicated to all you rabid Loki fans out there. (w00t) ;D

***The events, characters, organizations and any other names depicted in this story are fictitious. Any similarities to actual persons, living or dead or to actual organizations and events is purely coincidental***

Thor, the Avengers and supporting cast personalities are based from the movies, my own personal touch and some selected references to canon Norse Mythology that I credit to the comprehensive website: triple w dot timeless myths dot com slash norse slash index dot html. (I mean no offense to purists out there for my liberal interpretations. I've definitely let and my bizarre imagination run away on this one. ;D)

Much of the fascinating 'filler' Norse lore I credit to the websites: triple w dot northernshamanism dot org slash general slash welcome dot html and triple w dot northernpaganism dot org slash. (I mean absolutely no disrespect to any of the spirit-workers and their practices or to any of the Norse gods and goddesses or residents of the Nine Worlds that I've included in this work of fiction.)

Lastly, this story contains MATURE themes. So, consider yourself warned and don't flame me later. Also, the way I see it, Loki is a being from another universe altogether and his 'moral sensibilities' greatly differ from our own. 'Nuff said.

Without further ado, I suggest leaving your inhibitions behind, sit back, relax and enjoy the read. ^_^

*The events in this story take place after the last scene of the first Thor feature length movie and Iron Man 2.*

* * *

><p><strong>Such Fragile Creatures<strong>

*Avengers fan-fiction by Kemurikat*

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

* * *

><p>The immense disappointment present in the eyes and words of the All-Father were more than he could bear. He knew it was futile to justify the madness of his actions, but a plea had left his mouth before he could stop it.<p>

His entire existence had been a lie. He was nothing but a tool in a failed experiment. An idea born from the whim of Odin the All-Father, who thought that he could raise a Frost Giant as his own flesh and blood.

It was time he corrected that mistake.

Ignoring Thor's cries, Loki released his tenuous hold on the golden spear, Gungnir, his inherited weapon during his brief ascension to the Throne of Asgard. In the eternal moment of his free-fall before the tug of the menacing celestial maelstrom claimed him, he took one final look at the aged Odin who was once his 'father' and to the Asgardian who called him 'brother.'

He would be mourned by those who knew him best...and then forgotten.

_Farewell_.

Calmly, Loki turned away to meet his Fate, his body hurling rapidly toward the unknown darkness at the center of the spiraling maelstrom caused by the devastating destruction of the Bifrost. His eyes stared bravely forward until he was violently swept away by swirling tendrils of stardust and plunged into nothingness.

* * *

><p><strong>Act 01 - The Mortal Coil<strong>

* * *

><p>It happened so fast, she nearly missed it. Jane Foster stared wide-eyed at the data from an anomalous event that poured across her monitor. The informational parameters closely matched the phenomenon that had brought Thor to her from the Realm of Asgard. Was it <em>him<em>? Was he attempting to return to her? He had promised her that he would and she hadn't doubted the sincerity of his words which were further validated by the sweetest of kisses. She couldn't believe how strongly she loved the strange man and he wasn't even remotely human by definition. Correction, Thor had been mortal when they met and she was certain that he felt the same. He wouldn't have made her such a promise otherwise. She just wished the fabled god of thunder would hurry up before her youth left her.

Her assistant Darcy Lewis had stubbornly remained with her despite an offer she received from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s personnel division for a better paying opportunity. A similar proposal was presented to Professor Erik Selvig but it wasn't the money that motivated him to leave, rather, it was some kind of mysterious object that Colonel Nicholas Fury, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Director, had shown him personally. Jane would've given almost anything to have seen...whatever it was. It was obviously something _big_ enough to immediately capture Erik's full attention, whisking him away from New Mexico.

"Jay-Jay, it's gonna take a while before we can unscramble this shit," Darcy told Foster as she scanned the information on her computer console. "You really think that blip was a lead?"

Many sleepless nights of pouring over data and their more recent shared experience of meeting beings from another universe had bonded the colleagues into good friends.

"I'm positive. My instincts haven't let me down yet, Dare," Jane answered back, hastily scribbling into her little notebook. _This is it! I can feel it_.

Darcy shook her head and smiled. Maybe someday Jane would know the _real_ reason she stayed behind to help. She procrastinated with the truth because she had way too much fun dodging Jane's questions. Underneath all her outward displays of indifference and bravado, she was secretly a sappy romantic at heart and a sucker for happy endings. Being a 'fly on the wall' for the inevitable drama that was sure to unfold between Jane and Thor was too irresistible to pass up.

"Are your spidey senses tingling?" Lewis teased with a smile.

Jane looked toward her colleague with large, excited eyes. "Big time."

It was all the confirmation Darcy needed.

* * *

><p>Loki had never before felt pain and discomfort of this magnitude.<p>

Matter of fact, he had _not_ expected to feel...anything. He had taken his own life and was now being punished by a Higher Power, sentenced to suffer eternal torment in the emptiness of oblivion.

However, his current Fate was much too prosaic and it made him snicker.

That's when he realized that his consciousness wasn't scattered throughout the cosmos...but existed _intact_.

Wait.

If his mind was _whole_ and he could _feel_...could it mean that he was..._alive?_

...if he was alive...

On cue, as if saying the word 'alive' was some kind of celestial light-switch…a great force took a firm hold of his entire being and all doubt left him.

...

..

.

Where was he?

The sounds and smells that surrounded him were unfamiliar. His body felt weak, ill and powerless.

_Mortal_.

He tried to move.

Bad idea. Much of his body was heavily wounded and the searing pain from his many injuries spread like an inferno, scorching him everywhere in agonizing waves. He couldn't stop the strangled gasp that escaped his lips.

"Hey, hey, hold still. You'll start bleeding again. The thugs that roughed you up did a real number on you."

The gentle voice that spoke to him was female and her manner of speech was strange.

"Just lie still. You have to get some rest." There was a pause and a sharp exhale of breath. "Oh, who the fuck am I kidding! I'm not a doctor. Why the hell didn't I just drop you off at the local hospital? Why'd I have to drag your sorry ass back to my basement apartment, dump you on _my_ bed, thinking I can save you like some fucking hero in a movie!"

The female sounded frustrated and in the throes of hysterics. _This_ was his savior? At least he knew part of the story of how he had arrived. Now, if the female would only calm herself. Her mewling was irritating.

"Pull yourself together, stupid! You can _do_ this, Bryn." She took a few deep breaths till her hiccuping sobs stopped, fanning herself briskly with her hands. "Why do I always end up bringing home the weirdos? Shit." If her annoying landlord Raoul ever found out about her extra tenant, he would definitely have kittens.

"You better not die on me."

Loki felt mortal but he was far from a corpse. Resisting the urge to move his limbs, he focused instead on moving his eyelids, preferably to an open position, yet they felt almost as heavy as Thor's hammer.

Bryn saw the man's eyelids flutter as he tried carefully to open them.

"Hang tight, I'll be right back."

The female's hurried footfalls indicated that she had sprinted out of the room.

It took a pathetically long moment for his blurry vision to adjust itself. Once it did, Loki tried to process what he was looking at and determined that it was the ceiling of a structure decorated by a hanging fixture with globes of various sizes. In the dim light, he couldn't decide if the ceiling's color was grey or white. He cautiously moved his neck and head slightly, allowing his pupils to wander around the female's bedchamber. There was a large picture fastened to the wall next to him on his right, depicting tall windows where he saw buildings of a great height, brightly lit with strange symbols. (Bryn's illusion of a larger space)

The bed he laid upon was moderately comfortable and against a corner wall. There was a worn cabinet of drawers at the foot of the bed. To the left of it was the door to the bedchamber, then another storage area with double-doors that slid apart, which he guessed was her main wardrobe judging by the items he saw hanging inside it. There was a single night-stand table upon which a lit, shaded lamp was placed and positioned next to the bed leveled with his head, and lastly, right beside the bed was a flimsy chair. There wasn't much else. The female's bedchamber was so small that if he were to place it inside his own private bedchamber in Bilskirnir (Thor's hall where he shared space), it would be barely a quarter of his own wardrobe.

He heard noises outside and guessed it was the female fussing about somewhere.

Of the Nine Realms, only one place fit the description of his surroundings. He had somehow fallen into the Realm of Midgard, specifically to Earth, and was now forced to suffer the same fate of banishment as his brother, Thor. No, not banishment. He had meant to deliberately perish within the cosmic maelstrom. Whatever _this_ existence now was...Loki found himself unable to form the words to adequately describe the overwhelming desolation of how he felt.

"Hey, you," the Earthian female said as she slowly approached his bedside. She increased the brightness of the lamp on the night-stand, pulled the flimsy chair closer to the bed and sat down.

His first impression was that the mortal female's features were pleasing, but she appeared tired and a bit unkempt. Most of her hair was piled on the top of her head in a messy heap as strands of various lengths framed her oval-shaped face. She wore baggy clothing with the make and fit of a peasant, the loose folds of fabric hiding the feminine curves of her body. Her eyebrows were neatly trimmed and sculpted, however, and there were traces of cosmetics on her face.

What struck Loki about the mortal female were her eyes. With the reflective light from her lamp, the female's irises were an intriguing shade of the opalescent blue gemstones that adorned one of Frigga's favorite necklaces, one that frequently graced his foster...his mother's throat. It was a necklace made of the whitest ivory decorated with opalescent sky-blue gems which he had presented to Frigga as a gift, a special one he had crafted with his own hands when he was a young boy.

As much as the thought of Odin, his once-father, angered him to the core, he couldn't bring himself to be angry with Frigga. She was a kind and gentle woman, one of the very few Asgardians who took the time to try to get to know him.

"Hi, I'm Bryn. I thought maybe you'd like some water."

The mortal female had returned and now that she mentioned it, he was indeed thirsty.

"Here, lemme help."

He felt his head being carefully elevated and propped up by an extra cushion. She then brought a glass filled with water forward and tapped a narrow, bent, cylindrical thing next to his mouth.

"Go ahead, have a sip. It's Evian," she smiled brightly.

He guessed that 'Evian' was this world's name for water? By 'sip' the female most likely meant doing so using the curious object she was trying to push past his pursed lips.

"Geez, you're acting like you've never seen a straw before," Bryn laughed. "Anyway, I'm not gonna poison you. Here."

The female demonstrated the object's use by drawing liquid through it and swallowing a mouthful. Loki decided that in his present condition it seemed the most practical way to drink, otherwise, he would have water dribbling down his neck.

The female looked relieved when he drank his fill of the water she offered, draining half the glass.

"Y'know, I have no idea if you can even speak English. I mean, I'm always assuming things. I'm silly that way," Bryn said aloud, mostly for herself, shaking her head. The strange, wounded man she brought home had been drifting in and out of consciousness for over a week, saying words out loud in a language she didn't understand. Before that, for nearly three days after she found him, the guy was practically in a coma. "Anyway, um, when you're stronger, we'll have the whole talk thing, okay?" she added, patting her odd guest's shoulder and removing the extra pillow she used to prop his head up, placing the glass of water she held on the night-stand table. "Right. Well, I'm off to bed. Good thing I bought that comfy Ikea couch. I'll, uh, check up on you in the morning. Night."

He watched the female named Bryn leave, closing the chamber's door with a soft click.

'Rest,' she had told him. For the moment, it was a sensible instruction. His mind was foggy, his body was in great pain, his flesh was burning with fever and he felt very tired. He would have to wait for his mortal body to heal itself. After all, it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. He had whatever time was granted to him in his present form to seek the answers to his questions.

Loki sighed and closed his eyes, his breathing gradually slowing to an even rhythm, his dreams filled with images of a place he once called home.

* * *

><p>Natasha Romanoff or better known by her moniker 'The Black Widow,' an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., stood to the side patiently with Virginia 'Pepper' Potts (personal executive assistant to CEO of Stark Industries) as Anthony 'Tony' Stark concluded his meeting in the position of mediator for an overseas merger. After the last person had left the board room, both women promptly took their seats on either side of Stark at the head of a long, rectangular table, their datebooks and data-pads placed within easy reach.<p>

"I think that went well," Tony said proudly, leaning back against his executive leather chair and clasping his hands together contentedly. He glanced toward the attractive redhead seated to his left, grateful to Nick Fury for extending her stay with him. "So, Natalie, what's on the super-secret agenda for today?"

The Black Widow's eyes looked over to Stark with some annoyance. At Col. Nicholas Fury's request, she reluctantly agreed to continue her role as liaison and babysitter to the troublesome multibillionaire, resuming her alternate identity as Natalie Rushman, Pepper's assistant, and scratching off a favor for her long time friend and colleague who was also S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Director.

"I know you don't like me very much. It's too bad because I definitely like you," Tony said with a grin.

"Please, Mister Stark, don't start. I'm really not in the mood," Rushman replied.

"You look tense. I should introduce you to my masseuse, Astrid, she has friends who can - "

Stark jerked in his seat when Natalie slammed the data-pad she held on the table. Pepper barely contained a smile.

"Tony, please, don't aggravate her. Without your Iron Man suit, she can totally kick your ass," Pepper stated, watching as Tony pretended to re-adjust his tie. She made herself comfortable, ready to observe their conversation quietly.

"Returning to your earlier question of our 'super-secret agenda,' I'd just like to update you on recent events that took place in New Mexico," Rushman began.

"Something to do with a town being half-demolished and crazy atmospheric disturbances?" Tony said, looking smug. He had been receiving frequent updates from that area through the artificially intelligent supercomputer currently housed in his mansion's basement named 'Jarvis.' The supercomputer's conception had been a joint project with his father, Howard Stark, one of the few pleasant memories he had of the man.

Recent developments had also brought to light his father's 'side projects', proverbial skeletons in the closet that Tony found rather shocking. Two of the most notable enterprises were Howard Stark's direct involvement in the 'Manhattan Project,' (the world's first atomic bomb) and the success of a classified military research program that created a prototype Super Soldier. (the 1940s war-time super-hero, Captain America)

"Your information's only half accurate. What you _aren't_ aware of is that those atmospheric disturbances resulted in a close encounter with beings from another universe," Natalie replied as Pepper gasped.

Now _that_ got Tony Stark's attention. All joviality left him as he straightened in his seat and stared at Natalie with genuine curiosity. "Any details?"

"It's all here," she answered, pushing her data-pad toward him.

Grabbing it, Stark's eyes quickly devoured the screen as his fingers excitedly scrolled through the information he was reading. "Wow," he muttered. A few moments passed and his brows shot up his forehead as he said out loud, "Fucking _Asgard?_ Are you telling me that all those stories from Norse Mythology are _true?_"

"Presently, we have no way to confirm that. There are only three people who've had direct contact with the being known as Thor. An astrophysicist named Jane Foster, her assistant Darcy Lewis and their colleague, Professor Erik Selvig."

"I've met Selvig but I haven't heard of Jane Foster."

"Unfortunately, Jane Foster's area of research into celestial phenomena borderlines UFO hunting."

"Uh-huh. So, what's Selvig's involvement in all this?" Tony asked. He had a few run-ins with the man on different occasions when his father was alive.

"Professor Selvig's currently working for S.H.I.E.L.D. on an undisclosed project that's under the direct supervision of Colonel Fury. We'll fill you in on the details once we know more."

"Not even a little _hint_..._?_" Tony asked, trying lamely to do a cute 'puppy-dog face.'

"I don't like repeating myself," Natalie said with a frown as she sat back and refused to make eye contact. She then started scribbling something down on her day planner.

"Right," Tony mumbled, scratching his head and turning to face Pepper. "Onto you then, my darling."

Nodding with a smile, Pepper began to confirm his appointments for the rest of the week.

* * *

><p>The passage of time seemed irrelevant as Loki drifted in and out of consciousness. Vague images of the waking world and his dreams blended in a cornucopia of disembodied faces, the actions of past sins, jumbled emotions and lingering regret.<p>

He awoke with a start to the sound of something crashing to the floor, the exasperated word 'Shit' following closely after it. Other words followed, no doubt the female had dropped something she wasn't supposed to.

His body was still in great pain and abnormally warm but he felt strong enough to assess more of his condition. His broken right shoulder was bandaged tightly, the limb immobilized. There were dressings around his head and chest, including patches of various sizes all over his body as he flexed the fingers of his left hand and the toes of his feet. That's when he noticed something that truly bothered him.

Where was his _armor_? How had the mortal female removed the enchanted raiment from his body? That was the first question he would need an answer to.

The garments he wore in place of his armor were lightweight and soft to accommodate his injuries, a similar procedure to what Eir, the Asgardian Healer would do. The mortal female, Bryn, was certainly _not_ remotely comparable to the soothing hands or to the healing skills of the gentle Eir, but so far, he found nothing too clumsy about her attempts to remedy his wounds.

When the mortal female approached the door to the bedchamber, Loki quickly closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. He heard the door creak open as she stepped inside, felt her presence looming over him and her fingers prodding the bandages on his body. Satisfied, she moved in the direction of her closet. The noises and rustling of fabric suggested that she was looking for something to wear. Soon, she left as quietly as she had arrived. In another chamber of the dwelling, the noise of running water was heard. The female must be running a bath. That gave him some time to himself before she decided to visit him again.

His eyes drifted open and Loki sluggishly raised his left arm from under the blanket he was swaddled in. Staring at his hand and arm, his skin had somehow remained that of an Asgardian, a form very similar in appearance to the humans that dwelt on Earth. He would therefore have no trouble blending in with the Realm's population.

Overall...though he should be grateful that he was alive...his present state could only be described as the most _cruel_ of punishments.

Whatever nameless Higher Power spared his life-essence, it extracted from him a monstrous price. It was the final insult and it broke his spirit. No longer immortal, he was doomed to grow old and decrepit as a _mortal_ _human_, his flesh and bones rotting, forgotten beneath a distant soil. Admittedly, though he hadn't an inkling of his Jotnar heritage, he was even stripped of his very _nature_ as a denizen of Jotunheim!

Loki gritted his teeth as tears of anger and bitterness flowed down his cheeks. He wanted to scream with all his might at the heavens, howling the _indignity_ of an existence to which he was unwillingly bound! Thoughts of ending his wretched new life flitted through his mind but he quickly stamped it out. He wouldn't give whatever nameless force was responsible for his current state the pleasure of that ultimate shame. He would dedicate his short, new life-span to defying the odds against him. He _will_ find his armor, journey to the location where Thor had fallen, find his mortal woman and use her to discover a way to restore what was taken from him so blatantly against his will. It would be a monumental achievement, even for him. For now, he must concentrate on reclaiming his body's strength so that he could at least leave this bedchamber's accursedly lumpy mattress!

Filled with determined vigor, Loki attempted to sit up. The pain that lanced through him made him cry out. Fortunately, the noise of running water was loud enough to prevent the human female from returning to fawn over him.

His left arm shook violently when he used it to lift the upper half of his body to a sitting position. Groaning, his body protested against his efforts, his skin slick with sweat and portions of his disheveled hair fell to cover his face.

In such a lamentable state he was!

Now that his form was human, Loki suspected that he was no longer invisible to Heimdall's powerful eyes and ears, frowning when he imagined the sneer of triumph gracing the Golden Giant's lips. Would the Gatekeeper hasten a report to the All-Father proclaiming that his foster son yet lived, thus informing Odin of his pitiful plight? No. Heimdall would stay silent and simply observe. In his current mortal state, he was no longer of any consequence to the immortal Realm of Asgard.

_Someday, Heimdall, I promise you, I _will_ return to stand before you and cleave that smile from your lips. Thor's mortal woman is here, no doubt feverishly seeking to restore the connection to Asgard. Watch as I use her to acquire what I need and discard her as I see fit. I will determine for myself what ridiculous hold this mortal woman has on Thor, and what power she possesses to have changed my brother so radically from the arrogant beast that he was!_

It must have been the burning anger within him that allowed Loki to stand, despite how weak, unsteady and dizzy he felt. He clung to the edge of the night-stand with his left hand, trying to find his balance to take a step. He sent the half empty glass of water that was placed there tumbling to the rug-covered floor.

"Are you out of your fucking _mind?_" Bryn yelled out when she entered the room.

He was so preoccupied by his internal ranting that Loki failed to sense the female's approach. Her loud voice startled him and he lost his balance.

"Shit, shit, _shit_," Bryn cursed when she nervously caught her wounded charge as he pitched forward, but she wasn't strong enough to support his full weight and they both awkwardly sank to the floor.

The rapid change of movement to his body made Loki gasp and groan, his face grimacing with pain, a tidal wave of disorientation overwhelming him.

"That's what you get for being a complete _idiot._ You're in no condition to stand, so why'd you even bother? _Men!_ Why the hell are you jackasses so deluded with being invincible, huh? Always leaving it up to the women to clean up after the mess you guys leave behind. Go figure." It was Bryn's turn to rant.

_Silence your tongue, woman, and help me stand, _Loki scowled.

"Don't you look at me like that. Maybe I'll just leave you here to sleep on the floor then."

_You wouldn't dare, _he mentally replied, his eyes narrowing defiantly.

"Try me," Bryn warned, correctly interpreting the expression on her strange 'patient's' face. After a moment, she watched his features visibly soften. "Much better. C'mon, here we go. Upsy-daisy. This is gonna hurt you more than it'll hurt me."

Hurt it _did_. Loki valiantly endured the ordeal of being put back to bed but he couldn't completely suppress his reactions. Never in his existence had he been so pathetically injured and weak to _this_ extent. It was inexcusably humiliating!

Once he was back into bed and settled, he instantly drifted off to a fitful sleep.

Thanking her lucky stars that the towel she had wrapped around her naked body miraculously stayed in place, Bryn flung her long, wet hair over one shoulder and dug into her drawers for a matching pair of undergarments.

* * *

><p>During the days her strange guest healed, Bryn went through her routine of diligently attending her two jobs, one as an exotic dancer by day and bartender at night. For the adult entertainment nightclub scene, her good looks allowed her the fortune to land a well-paying position at a reputable downtown establishment as one of their featured attractions. Her bosses were two eccentric owners who meticulously modeled their club's interior as an idealized homage to the Moulin Rouge of Montmartre that opened in 1889 Paris, France. It's posh interior with lavish velvet, leather and crystal wove the enticing spell of a bygone area for its high-paying clientele. Numerous quality replicas of paintings made by Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, historic French painter and lithographer, proudly decorated the club. Bourgeoisie, as the club was named, was a celebrated nightspot and boasted the best, most creative live adult programs in downtown San Francisco.<p>

"I swear, Mars, you should've run off to Vegas with your talent," Bryn yelled over the noise of the music.

"Me? Leave all _this?_ I wouldn't dream of it, dear. What if Alvi heard you? He'd have a fit! You deserve a spanking for even saying that," Marius Casen replied suggestively with a mild Scottish accent. For tonight, he wore a striking, red-patterned, sleeveless shirt over his fit, firm body, red-shaded sunglasses on his heart-shaped face with red and blond highlights in his spiked, dark-brown hair. His dark eyebrows were neatly sculpted, his feet and nails always immaculately trimmed. He took absolute pride in his appearance and did so to constantly seduce his life-partner and, subsequently, others around him.

"I'm sure you'd rather spank Davin over there," Bryn laughed, glancing over to her fellow bartender, a young, muscular, golden-blond twenty-one year old gyrating enthusiastically to the club's trance-y dance rhythm and clad in nothing but a pair of low-rise, tight leather jeans. Davin was handsome, charismatic, a shameless exhibitionist and as virile as any young man his age. She laughed harder when Mars instantly blushed as the blond winked at them.

"I'll get you for that one," Marius replied as he reached over and unsuccessfully tried pinching Bryn who dodged merrily out of the way.

"I'm working over here, go bother someone else."

"Don't forget who signs your paychecks."

Bryn stuck her tongue out in reply.

Laughing, Marius waved a dismissive hand in her direction and walked off to find his longtime business partner and companion, Alvis Werner. Spotting him dancing to the music with a small crowd of scantily clad young men and women, he smiled widely and decided to join him.

Both Marius and Alvis were fond of Bryn Seaver. She was the hardest working young woman they'd ever had the pleasure of employing. Not only was she one of their featured attractions by day, at night she was one of their most popular bartenders. Since she was pulling off an unprecedented double shift on some days, they were more flexible of her schedule. They even occasionally insisted that she took certain days or nights off (with pay) fearing she was overexerting herself. Apart from her impulsive nature, her poor taste in men and her volatile temper, Bryn was intelligent, attractive, playful, a delight to work with, alluringly sexy and extremely good for business.

"You work too hard, girl," Davin said to her as he juggled three bottles of liquor into the air and poured them all into one shot. "Slow down. Trust me, you don't wanna burn out. My older brother did and I tell ya, it was ugly."

"I'm saving up, Dav. I wanna get outta the birdcage I'm in," Bryn said, serving up strong rounds of shots, martinis and their version of the city's famous Pisco Punch.

"You just got here. I thought you liked working here," Davin said with a pout.

"I do! I never said I was leaving _this_ place, just need a major upgrade to where I sleep. It's pathetic."

"You're place isn't so bad. It's small but it's clean and in a decent part of town. Remember Mike's place?" Davin shudders at the memory.

"That dump? I'm _so_ glad he finally moved outta there," Bryn answered.

"Yeah, that place almost got him killed. I can't believe he stayed in an apartment that was crawling with mould. Gross! What a nightmare that was," Davin replied as the small talk between them continued till closing.

Bourgeoisie was a clever design, going from titty bar to dance bar with just a bit of rearrangement. It was Alvis who'd designed it. His interior design and architectural skills came in handy, and combined with Marius's flair and exquisite taste, the two men were unstoppable. Bryn could only guess at their profit margins but despite their large earnings they weren't overtly lavish with their spending. The pair routinely donated to local charities and community outreach programs, paid their hardworking employees generously and treated them with respect. In spite of their flamboyant attitudes and attire, Bryn had never seen Mars or Alvi driving a sports car. She often laughed and teased them about their matching Honda CR-Z hybrids. Not that she had anything against the whole 'Save the Planet' from harmful emissions thing, in fact, she totally supported it. However, for her, nothing compared to the experience of driving a fully customized Classic American muscle car.

Bryn referred to her late father's 1969 Mustang Mach One, a car she'd one day take the time to fully modify. The car was her constant companion since he'd given it to her for her sixteenth birthday. No one would ever guess that a girl like her even knew what a supercharger was, let alone interested in building one from scratch. Her father had a collection of old cars that he'd restored himself, and she often hung out with him in his garage, paying close attention to whatever he'd show her. She discovered that she liked working with her hands, wasn't squeamish about getting absolutely dirty and being a hobby mechanic felt like a natural fit.

In a private VIP booth, Bryn's two overprotective bosses had taken a breather from dancing, chugging down bottles of designer water that an attractively shapely blonde named Jessica Layden had served them. Jessica was Bryn's direct competitor on the dance stage. Since the first day they'd hired her, the young woman had been personally campaigning to become the club's most popular star attraction. Her jealously toward Bryn was quite obvious to everyone and the subject was a constant source of amusement, particularly for the club's eccentric owners.

Tonight, rather than the usual biting gossip that sprung up between Alvis and Marius whenever Jessica was near them, their attention was focused on a more pressing problem.

"Is it just me or does Bryn look more tired than usual?" Alvis observed, leaning in close to whisper in his partner's ear.

"I've noticed it too. I think she's due for another vacation," Marius laughed. "She's going to _hate_ us."

"Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? Shouldn't it be _her_ asking for time off, instead of us 'forcing' it on her?" Alvis chuckled. He settled back in the booth, briefly running his fingers through his longish, sun-lightened brown hair. He had an oval-shaped face with strong, masculine features and a charming, roguish confidence that made him very approachable and also very intimidating when he was in full-on business mode.

"Normally, it would be but I'm not complaining. She's heaven-sent to us. I can't believe she's the same broken girl we found in the park that night, just over a year and a half ago," Marius reminisced.

"Remarkable, isn't it? Little Girl Lost to Empress of Spades," Alvis said proudly, tugging at the lapels of his long-sleeved, lavender, cotton-linen designer shirt that was neatly tucked into his khaki chinos.

"She's one helluva package deal, that girl. I'd take her for myself if I didn't already have you," Marius said, winking playfully.

"I'm so replaceable, am I?" Alvis replied sarcastically. "You, my darling, can be an underhanded bitch sometimes."

"You make it too easy. That's why I can't resist doing it," Marius ribbed back.

"I'll give you something you can't resist," Alvis said mischievously, firmly yanking Mars toward him by the fabric of his sleeveless shirt and locking lips with him.

From across the club, Davin and Bryn rolled their eyes in reaction.

"There they go again, but I think this time we should get them a room," Bryn laughed, watching her two bosses making a spectacle of themselves.

"Don't mess with their mojo, they bring us good luck," Davin grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Jump into bed with them already, will ya? Save yourself the trouble!"

Bryn squealed and giggled loudly when Davin sprayed her with water. She retaliated with her own as the crowd around the bar cheered them on.

Sometime later, when the hordes of tipsy people had cleared out, Bryn slipped out of her sexy work clothes for the day, (black leather corset showing generous cleavage, fishnet stockings and arm elastics, knee-high platform zipper boots, leather thong bikini and stainless steel metal collar) replacing them with mangled blue jeans and a red, worn out, hooded Harvard-crested sweatshirt. Alvi and Mars had always taken turns choosing her wardrobe and it amused her trying to guess their next outrageous ensemble. She had no use for the provocative stuff outside of work even if her bosses insisted she looked stunning in them, goading her constantly to take some of the items home.

Man, she was _tired_ as Bryn yawned and rubbed her eyes. Lifting her watch, it read 4:30 am. Time to check up on her mystery guest. She hadn't thought too far ahead about what she'd do with her foreign patient once he was strong enough to walk around. Oh, well. Like everything else in her life, she'd deal with it when she got there.

Closing her locker, she walked out of the club's change room. When she saw both Alvi and Mars seated at the bar, she frowned. She knew what it meant. Her self-appointed parental units were about to do another intervention of sorts. She suspected that they took fiendish delight in watching the angry look on her face.

"No! I can't afford to right now. It's March Break, for fuck's sake," Bryn said indignantly, crossing her arms and glaring at both men.

"Told you she'll hate us," Marius said, sipping his bottle of Voss spring water.

"We'll cover your tips for the week as a bonus," Alvis offered.

"Guys, seriously, the two of you are really sweet to me and I totally appreciate what you're both doing, but - "

"This isn't up for discussion, Bryn. We _want_ you to take a break. Can't have our star attraction with bags under her eyes."

"Whatever, Alvi. You can adjust the lighting," Bryn replied, stomping around the bar and grabbing two large Evian bottles, placing them on the counter.

"A little help, my love, would be nice," Alvis prodded.

"Bryn, dear, you're either going to take the rest of the week off or Alvi and I will be forced to buy you a place at that luxury condo next door. The penthouse should do nicely," Marius threatened gleefully.

"It's only Tuesday!" Bryn said in outrage. Their silence meant they wouldn't budge. "Fine, I'll take the rest of the week off but I'm working my shifts on Thursday, deal?"

The two men exchanged glances and nodded.

"Deal. After Thursday's shift this week, neither of us want you back here till Thursday _next_ week," Alvis said with a grin. Mars pursed his lips in barely repressed laughter.

Exasperated, Bryn scowled at both men and roughly scrunched her hair into a messy bun at the back of her head. Reaching into her purse, she wore a pair of thick, black framed sunglasses with photochromic lenses.

"That Clark Kent camouflage you do is so cute," Marius remarked.

"Rather not deal with any perverts following me home," Bryn replied, stuffing the Evian bottles into her purse and fishing out her car keys.

"Bryn, our original offer still stands. We know how hard you work and Mars and I just want to help. It's absolutely no trouble on our part. We're filthy rich bastards, after all," Alvis said with a grin, his Australian accent habitually thicker whenever he was serious.

Sighing, she walked over to where her bosses sat at the bar and stood between them. "I know you're both just looking after me but getting my own place is something I wanna do for myself. You can't know how grateful I am to have met you two. It's like having my parents back again," Bryn said softly.

Visibly touched, both men fell silent as Bryn reached out to them for a tight group hug. She heard Mars sniffle and giggled, giving the man a kiss on the cheek. When Alvi made puppy noises, she laughed and turned her head, giving him another. Waving goodbye, she left the club.

With hardly any cars on the road at such an early hour, Bryn commuted home in record time. It was dark and silent when she entered her basement apartment, carefully tiptoeing to the small kitchen and added two large bottles of Evian in her fridge, placing her bag on the dinette table. Yawning, she went into the bathroom and started her bath.

Slipping into her bedroom, she saw that her guest was fast asleep. Using the dim light from the kitchen, she navigated her way around, took a change of night clothes from her drawers, then surveyed the items she'd left on her night-stand and chair.

At least her guest was eating, a good sign that he was getting stronger. Some of the packets of instant soup were missing, the stack of magazines on the chair were in disarray and he drank all the water she left. The only thing her guest hadn't touched were the assortment of analgesics. Why he refused them, she couldn't understand since he was obviously in a lot of pain. Maybe he was a member of a religion that didn't trust modern medical science?

Shrugging, Bryn restocked the water and food items on her night-stand, left her bedroom and turned off the tap for her hot bath, leaving her bathroom door slightly ajar. She didn't close it in case her guest needed to use the facilities. One of the reasons she chose this particular basement apartment was that a wall separated the toilet from the bathtub. For additional privacy, the last tenant, a good friend of the property's owner, installed an automated curtain she could use with the flip of a switch. That's why her rent was a bit steep. Her landlord decided to keep the improvements, which included a Garburator, kitchen back-splash, granite counters, alarm system, bathtub water jets and trendy studio lighting. She also had exceptional sound insulation that came in very handy when she had friends crash over from the club.

Lately, her landlord hadn't complained much about her accommodating occasional rowdy guests. Was it because she paid her rent by the due date like clockwork? Nah, Raoul wasn't impressed by stuff like that. She suspected that her landlord had an accidental run-in with Mike, the club's bouncer, when she'd helped him out by letting him crash at her place for a few nights. Mike was built like a grizzly bear and quite protective of her.

Regarding her current living conditions, Bryn knew in the back of her mind that most people in the city would _kill_ to have her unit but it was too expensive for the average renter. Bryn suspected Raoul was moving in personally when her lease was over.

Her major beef with her apartment was the location and _size_. It took almost an hour commute past downtown traffic and she was making do with a 550 square foot space. For a single girl her age and with her place's amenities, she should've been content but she'd rather _own_ a place than rent. Bryn coveted the condo units on the upper floors of the Bourgeoisie club building where her bosses lived. She'd fallen in love with the layout of a specific unit, a 2-bedroom 975 square foot loft with walkout balcony and high ceilings, underground parking for her car and the convenience of taking an elevator to the ground floor to get to work. She suspected that Alvi and Mars owned the condo building itself but they vehemently denied her attempts for confirmation.

The hot water and bathtub jets soothed her sore muscles but she'd give anything for a foot massage right now. She'd have to warn Mars not to make her wear those boots again. The design made her feet hurt. Maybe she needed insoles with more arch support.

_I'm tired. Enough worrying about stupid crap for now._

Closing her eyes, Bryn relaxed her mind, listening only to the gurgle of rapidly churning water that massaged her aching body.

* * *

><p>Having feigned sleep yet again, Loki heard the continuous noise of bubbling water in the next room. Was the female boiling herself alive in a cauldron?<p>

Confined to his bed, the former god of mischief had nothing to amuse himself with except his thoughts and the inane picture-books his mortal host had left behind on the flimsy chair. Staring at the ceiling, Loki recalled a memory from earlier that day.

He had attempted to stand again while the female was away, managing to inch his way toward the dwelling's bath. Inside, he sought a mirror and was appalled by what he saw. Just as he had guessed, he looked absolutely _horrendous_. His tousled hair was a greasy mass, the parts of his body not covered in bandages were heavily bruised, he was thin from lack of suitable nourishment and his skin's pallor was paler than he'd ever seen.

_I must adapt quickly or I may not survive long on this world. I must learn Earth's customs and languages. The faster I blend in, the faster it will be for me to gather the information I need to navigate my way around this wretched Realm!_

_...and I wish for my arm to heal instantly so that I may use it,_ Loki sighed. _Better yet, I wish for a pair of mighty wings for me to take flight from this miserable place._

Presently, he longed for the relief of a medicinal hot spring bath in Frigga's Hall of Fensalir in Asgard. Since that was impossible, he would have to settle for whatever crude cleansing implements the humans used for bathing. He also hoped that most of his wounds had sufficiently sealed enough for him to do so. Thankfully, his mortal body was mending well, some of his physical strength returning. However, he detested the repulsive swill that passed for food the female had left him to eat on the night-stand table. He would have to learn to prepare his own meals from now on if he intended to eat properly. The water she gave him was at least acceptable.

Next door, the absence of the bubbling noise meant that the female had finished her bath and would come to visit him to change his dressings. Now that he was fully awake, he could observe her in action.

* * *

><p>Bryn entered her bedroom carefully and glanced at the still sleeping man on her bed. <em>This would be a lot easier if he was awake<em>, she sighed as she stood over him.

The man stirred, his breath hitching as his eyes opened and he looked at her.

"Hey, there. Sorry, if I woke you up," Bryn said. "I'm just gonna check on your bandages." The man looked at her curiously. "Don't worry, I had two years in Med school, took Advanced First Aid courses for community service and even rode around in an ambulance. Anyway, I did the best I could but we should still get you to a hospital and have your body x-rayed. Make sure your bones are setting properly."

The man stayed silent.

_What am I gonna do if this guy can't speak English? How do we talk to each other? I can't keep up this miming shit if I need to tell him something important,_ she puzzled. "Can you sit up for me?"

The man accepted her assistance to sit him up. He still winced but not as much as he did a few days ago. She saw that the bruising on his body had faded noticeably in just two days. The bindings on his broken right arm were still good and the man flinched slightly when she prodded certain sections of his shoulder.

"Sorry. Still too tender there, huh?"

His expression softened.

_Guess I'm forgiven_, Bryn thought with relief.

She continued her inspection of the slender man's upper body and saw that some of the gashes he had were knitting together nicely...and quickly. The guy was a bloody, incoherent mess when she first found him, his right arm had been at an unnatural angle and he was constantly drifting in and out of consciousness. There were days when his fever was so high, she'd almost driven him to the nearest hospital. So, why _hadn't_ she? It was her number one question. Instead, she stayed by his bedside like Florence Nightingale till his fever subsided. She couldn't even remember how she showed up for work in time on top of it.

As she mulled over the subject, she thought of her guest's amazing healing ability over the course of the month, fully aware of the leaps and bounds the man's body had made during that period. Count on her to discover the medical field's next biological miracle.

"Well, so far so good. Okay, I need you to scoot over to the edge of the bed so I can check your legs."

The man allowed her to guide him till his feet hung over the edge of her bed. She could feel his eyes on her as she carefully folded up both pajama pant-legs to just above his knees and inspected the bandages. A few of the gashes had completely sealed so she tore off the gauze pads that covered them.

"Let me know if anything hurts, okay?" she instructed.

The man nodded slightly.

Either her guest understood some English or was simply guessing, she couldn't tell.

_Damn_, _this guy's fit_, Bryn observed as her fingers worked her way up his legs. Her guest was defined like an Olympic swimmer with a good amount of muscle definition while remaining slim and lean. Also, his skin was _amazingly_ soft and smooth to the touch...almost like a child's. Blushing slightly, she recalled how the guy's body was totally hairless as well. She'd have to get the number of his dermatologist, not to mention his electrologist. Stellar hair removal job! No sign of any re-growth or scarring.

_Here's the awkward part. How do I get to the wounds on his upper thighs?_ Bryn mused. That part was so much easier when he wasn't conscious!

She bit her lip and looked up at him. He was regarding her curiously, his left arm propping up most of his weight as he sat. Even in the dim light, she could see how vividly green his eyes were.

_Crap_. She stared at the rolled up pajama bottoms. The pajamas were a few sizes too large and loose enough that folding them up further was effortless. The pair belonged to Mike, left behind when he'd crashed at her apartment for a few nights till his new place was ready. The same Mike she and Davin had talked about last night to pass the time serving drinks.

Bryn opted to chicken out as she unrolled her guest's pajama pants back down to his feet. _Some doctor I'd make. Can't even treat a naked man without blushing. Guess it's comes with practice._

Her yawn was long and made her eyes water as she covered her mouth with the back of one hand. _Holy hell, I need some sleep!_

"That'll do for tonight. First thing tomorrow, I'll help get you cleaned up. I'm pretty sure you're craving a shower by now. Sponge baths can only do so much," Bryn said. Not that the man smelled bad - weirdly enough, he smelled like strong mint - but he looked like something a cat dragged in.

After helping the man back to bed, she smiled and turned to leave.

"Good night," Bryn said and closed her bedroom door.

* * *

><p>Loki listened to the female's puttering outside till she fell silent. For a long time, he laid staring at the moving lights and shadows dancing on the bedchamber's ceiling, listening to the muffled noises of activity outside as the world's human population scurried everywhere, hurried and aimless as ants.<p>

He then reflected over the female's visit.

The human female, Bryn, had some healing skill, judging by the way she inspected his wounds. It amused him that she failed to complete her task. Nudity never bother him, whether it was from others or his own - he was _not _a modest maiden - nor was he a conceited exhibitionist like his brother, Thor.

_Oh, yes, Brother wouldn't hesitate to strut naked around Asgard - if I ever dared him to - wearing just his cape and hammer. Odin would find it amusing along with Frigga, but Mother would shake her head advising that it's behavior unbecoming of his station. Sif would most likely blush and be quick to defend him from the hordes of maidens sure to attack him while he paraded around. Incidentally, Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun, upon learning of my brother's audacity would immediately shed their clothing, walk behind him and mimic his every movement. It would be a spectacle Asgardians will remember for generations_, Loki narrated to himself, chuckling at his own imagination. His mirth turned morose, however, when the reverie reminded him of home.

Asgard. The only home he'd ever known was now lost to him. Although his true nature was that of a Frost Giant, he couldn't imagine ever building a life for himself among his 'own kind' in the Realm of Jotunheim. They were strangers to him. Their customs, their beliefs, their ways, all alien to him as he would be to them. He was Jotun in body but because of his Aesir upbringing and education, he was an ideal Asgardian to the core. He had Odin the All-Father to blame for that.

_Oh, yes. I'm beholden to you, Odin, for condemning me to an existence that is neither Jotun nor Asgardian. You may call me son but the instant I reveal my true nature to your fellow brethren, they will not take kindly to the magnitude of your deception. To think that, I, a Jotun was seated on the Throne of Asgard? The sheer Sacrilege of it is astonishing and orchestrated by none other than you, the All-Father himself! Multitudes will cry in outrage and rising protests would surely ignite a civil war! Roots of Yggdrasil, Father, what were you thinking - and they call _me_ the god of mischief? For once, my brother was right! You, Odin All-Father, are a FOOL!_

Loki's internal tirade filled him with rage as he sat up, grinding his teeth and breathing heavily. Ignoring the aches and pains of his pathetic mortal form, he stood unsteadily only to wobble as his knees gave out, collapsing him to the floor.

No longer caring of the consequences, Loki roared out his great bitterness and anguish like a tortured animal in a cry so loud that he hoped it pierced the heavens, deafening the ears of every living Asgardian. Repeatedly he bayed, despair and delirium intermingling near the precipice of insanity, his voice barely recognizable as anything human. He had no awareness of how long his clamor lasted or the hammering of his left fist to the carpeted floor till it was bloody and broken...or of the needle that pierced his neck.

* * *

><p>Normally, Sarah Brightman's epic aria in the song 'The Phantom of the Opera' immediately gladdened his heart and swept him away in a euphoria of melody...but at six o'clock in the morning, when his body was numb from exhaustion and all he fucking craved was a few hours of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep, the music made Alvis Werner livid with indignation.<p>

He rolled over with a groan, a hand violently searching for his cellphone on his bedside table, his index finger smashing the touch screen's answer button.

"Listen, you fucking son-of-a-bitch, you better have a good explanation - "

Distressed sobbing stopped him short and Alvis shot up to a sitting position like a bullet.

"Bryn?" Alvis called out in surprise.

The sound of her name woke Marius to full alertness as he sat up just as fast from the comfortable spot on his pillow.

"What wrong with Bryn?"

"Ssssh!" Alvis hissed his spouse's mouth shut. "Bryn, tell me what's wrong." His voice was gentle but commanding. "It's all right, now. Calm down." He left his warm bed and went straight for their master bedroom's double-door walk-in closet.

Marius followed suit without a word and got dressed at the same frantic pace as his husband.

"Mars and I are on our way. Hang tight, angel. Stay on the line and don't hang up," Alvis instructed as both men tumbled quickly out of their condominium, down their private elevator to the parking garage and into an Aston Martin DB9.

* * *

><p>Wrapped tightly in a quilted blanket, Bryn stared bleary-eyed and wary at the crumpled man laying unconscious in a heap on her bedroom floor. She rocked back and forth as uncontrollable trembling plagued her body. She looked every bit as horrible as she felt, her right hand cramping from the death-grip on her cellphone and the memory of what happened only minutes ago, fresh in her mind.<p>

She'd been an unwilling witness to the most terrifying image of suffering personified. Her well-behaved, injured foreigner had suddenly transformed himself into a bellowing, self-destructive berserker.

Her actions, after she'd woken up to a cacophony of unearthly wailing, were a frenzied blur. She remembered trying to calm the man - getting hit and scratched in the process - and when that failed, she ran for the most powerful tranquilizer she could find, injecting a massive dose to the man's neck, directly into his carotid artery. A metal psychiatric syringe lay abandoned off to the side on her bedroom floor.

She barely registered the frantic turning of a doorknob as both Alvi and Mars barged in, running promptly to her side.

"Whit in th' poompin' bluudy 'ell," Marius's Scottish accent flared in distress. Wide-eyed, he surveyed the scene before him, a hand covering his gaping mouth.

Alvis placed Bryn on his lap, a fragile butterfly in her cocoon of soft cotton and embraced her tightly, rocking her quaking body back and forth as he dissected the scene of devastation that was her bedroom. The discarded metal syringe on the floor told him that whoever it was just beyond the door's threshold had been rendered unconscious, otherwise, he would've prohibited Mars from entering the room.

"Good God," he heard his life-partner say a few paces away as he circled a bleeding, crumpled mass.

"Love, please, don't touch anything until we know what we're dealing with here," Alvis warned. Whatever he said had triggered something since Bryn began crying again, and he did his best to soothe the distraught young woman. "Love, would you come here, please?" When Mars was at his side, he added, "Take Bryn for a bit? I want to go in there and take a closer look."

Placing his right hand underneath his jacket, Alvis loosely gripped the handle of his custom Browning High Power pistol tucked in his jeans at the base of his spine, just in case Bryn's rabid guest decided to bite. Years of military training from his past leapt to the surface - his personal well-kept secret - as he cautiously bent down to gauge the unconscious man's condition.

_Still alive but this man's a mess,_ Werner observed. He noted the ruined bandages on the man's body and saw the skill behind it. _Seems I'm not the only one with hidden talents around here._ He glanced toward Mars and Bryn. She was still shaking but he was taken aback by the worried stare that she sent his way. _Oh, no. Not another stupid boyfriend. Darling, darling, this has got to stop!_

Releasing his grip on his gun, Alvis sighed and carefully hoisted the broken man onto Bryn's bed. In the state he was in, the man needed to be driven to a hospital Emergency Room.

"Alvi, don't. Don't take him to a hospital," Bryn said between hitched breaths, reading his expression.

"He _needs_ medical attention. Advanced First Aid won't cut it anymore," Werner said flatly.

"He'll be fine. He's some kind of biological miracle. A crazy-fast healer."

"Girl, have you gone mad?" Werner said, anger flaring. "You're bringing home _strays_ now?" He stalked toward the couch where his spouse sat with Bryn, his mouth in an irritated frown. The adrenaline he'd used to maniacally rush to her aid was leaving him, annoyance and exhaustion replacing them. "Is he a drug dealer? What sort of trouble's he in? Good Lord, child, you know better and deserve better! How many times must I tell you this?"

"It's not like that!" Bryn shouted back, her own anger bubbling. She needed some kind of release from the piece of hell she'd just experienced. "Until twenty minutes ago, I had no idea he'd go berserk! I don't think he even knows who he is! He was badly hurt and I took him in. He was a victim of some kind of mugging or whatever. Poor guy had nothing on him except his birthday suit!"

"The man was stripped _naked_?" both Alvi and Mars said in unison.

Their reactions were comical despite the tense situation. Bryn swore under her breath and blushed. At least her trembling had stopped.

"Yeah, I know, it was freaky for me too. When I found him, it was like being in a deleted scene from the Godfather," she remarked.

Glancing across the room toward the sedated man on her bed, Alvis ran a hand roughly through his hair, sighed audibly and slid down to sit on the floor, leaning against the base of her couch. "I think you'd better start from the beginning."

"I'll make us some tea," Mars volunteered. He stood up and walked a few steps toward the kitchen which was just behind the couch, filling up an electric tea kettle with filtered tap water and pressing the 'on' switch. He then turned around, leaned against the sink and crossed his arms.

Bryn sat back down on the couch, pulled her legs up to her chin and hugged them.

"Remember that crazy thunderstorm we had almost three weeks ago?" When both men nodded, she continued. "I got caught in the middle of it on my way home. I couldn't see anything in the rain, so I pulled over and parked at that alleyway by the Market Street Grill. All of a sudden, this humongous bolt of lightning came down and hit the roof just a few meters above my head. Scared the living shit out of me!"

"That would be Daryl's place. He nearly had a heart attack too. Made a good sized hole in his roof, he told me," Mars interjected. He always made it a top priority to know the sordid events in his neighborhood.

"Of course, like everyone else, I just _had_ to have a better look at the damage," Bryn said, returning to her story. "I got soaked the minute I left my car. With all that rain coming down...I still don't have a clue how I..._heard_ him. He didn't actually cry out for help or anything...I just _knew_ he was there."

Her voice sounded so mystified it made both men stare at her in wonder.

"A dark alleyway rendezvous. How quaint," Alvis muttered.

"I walked down the alley till I got to these huge garbage bins on both sides of me just behind the Grill. When I passed one of the bins, someone grabbed my leg, so I screamed. I thought it was a junkie or some perverted rapist who was stalking me...instead, I found _him_. He'd passed out but he had a really good hold on my ankle. When I bent down to try to get away from him, that's when I saw how hurt he was. It's like a bunch of guys beat him up, took everything he had and threw him in the dumpster. I felt sorry for him so I took him home," Bryn said, shrugging a little as she curled in tightly, burying her face in her arms.

Mars and Alvi exchanged a series of loaded glances. For a long moment, no one spoke, the living room filled with the intermittent tinkling of china.

"Brynnie, it's one thing to take pity on an injured man with no I.D. but it's incredibly _dangerous_ of you to take him home so quickly," Alvis pointed out. "What you should've done was dial 911...or you could've called me."

"I know that," Bryn said, nipping at her bottom lip. "Until an hour ago, before the guy went completely ape-shit, he was quiet, well-behaved, kept mostly to himself and hasn't spoken a single word to me. I even thought he was a mute till he started talking in his sleep, but whatever he spoke was in some foreign language I've never heard before. He seemed harmless enough."

"So, what happened?" Alvis Werner asked, glancing toward her bedroom. "How'd your 'harmless' man end up like...that?"

"Fucked if I know," she reacted. "I was so tired, I fell asleep soon as my head hit the pillow then I woke up to the noise of him going berserk. He did this really horrible howling and he was hurting himself. I had no choice but to tranquilize him," Bryn explained, shuddering as she recalled the memory. She fiddled with the welts, cuts and bruises on her arms. "Everything was perfectly peachy before that. I gave him a quick check up, he stayed still and was very cooperative, then I put him back to bed and I went to sleep."

"Here you go, dear, drink up," Marius Casen said gently and sat down beside Bryn. She unfolded herself, placing the cup and saucer on her lap.

"I guess the guy may have had some kind of psychotic episode," Bryn thought out loud.

"Which is a damn good reason why we need to take him straight to a hospital," Alvis insisted. "For all we know, he could be completely bonkers."

"No, we can't do that. I just have this really bad feeling he won't last long if we take him to one," Bryn answered with pleading eyes.

_Insanity!_ "Fine. Well, we can't just leave the man in the state he's in. From the looks of it, the poor sod's mangled his left hand and may have re-broken his shoulder," Werner stated.

"Shit," Bryn said. She took a sip of her hot tea and began nibbling at her lip again.

"Good thing Raoul's been out of town this whole time. Otherwise, he would've called the police on your guest there," Mars said, sipping delicately at his tea. He had the sudden urge for a cigarette.

"Y'know, Brynnie, that syringe over there isn't available to the general public. Lord, darling, Thorazine? Only licensed practitioners can get their hands on that drug. Not exactly cheap on the black market either. Care to explain?" Werner asked, gazing expectantly at the young woman.

"I, uh, had connections...when I was a Med student at Harvard."

"Now _there's_ a juicy tidbit! Good heaven's, dear, Harvard?" Mars exclaimed in surprise. "What the hell are you doing wasting your time at the club then?"

"Hey, I happen to _love_ working at the club. Harvard was a whole other life and I'd rather not talk about that right now, okay?" Bryn told Mars angrily. "I happen to _like_ living in San Francisco. Besides, what're you guys gonna do without me, huh?"

"I could promote Jessica in your place. Her eyes have been doing the 'off-with-your-head' bit on you for quite some time now." Alvis chuckled when Bryn kicked his arm with her left leg. "Honestly, Brynnie, I think we have your best interest at heart when we say you should finish your studies."

"If you guys say one more word about Harvard, I'm burning the club down," Bryn threatened. She stood up in a huff, setting her cup and saucer down with a sharp plink on her granite kitchen counter. "Seriously, guys, _drop_ it. Now, if you'll both excuse me, I'm gonna go check on Bruce Banner."

Just mentioning Harvard brought back too many memories of the fairy-tale life she once had.

"Wait," Alvis said as he stood and gently touched Bryn's shoulder. "You should crash at our place for a while. We have spare bedrooms and the building we live in has every modern convenience. That way, you can get more rest and the club's only an elevator ride away. There's even an extra spot for you in the garage to park your car. Your...guest would be more comfortable there too. It will give Mars and I peace of mind knowing that you're safe and the _three_ of us can keep a better watch over your...guest. You don't have to do this alone anymore." His expression was open and sincere.

Alvi made perfect sense. Maybe too perfect.

"You guys've been plotting to find any excuse to move me in, haven't you?" Bryn said suspiciously. She heard Mars softly chuckling. _Sneaky bastards. __Should have fucking known._ She couldn't help but smile at the offer, however. Knowing that Alvi and Mars went above and beyond anything she ever expected them to do for her, made her feel warm, fuzzy and giddy.

"Fine, since you guys insist but it's only _temporary_," Bryn pointed out. Alvis raised his hands in mock surrender, Mars grinning beside him. Shaking her head, she walked toward her bedroom, her mind reflecting on the strange twists her life had taken.

* * *

><p>to be continued<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

My main heroine's full name is Brynhild Saitheia (pronounced sai-thay-yah) Seaver.

Alvis and Marius are my very supportive duo and the story's comic relief, with Alvis supplying a few surprises about himself in later chapters. Davin's basically eye-candy (or wallpaper), unless later chapters prove otherwise.

On a humorous note, when you think about it, both Thor and Loki are technically 'cradle-robbing' anyway, being smitten with mortals whose very existences are only blips to their immortal age. (not that us mortals are totally insignificant ants. *winks*) Also, I've decided to give Loki a break, making him the center of attention for a change. ROFL.

Let the chaos begin! *evil grin*

Please forgive my lame attempts to write a Scottish accent. ^_^;

I'm also trying to (lovingly) vomit this story out of my brain as fast as I can. Why? I've already got 4 incomplete stories on the go and I didn't want to add another hanging TBC, so I'm giving it everything I've got. (story's screaming to get out anyway)

I fell in love with Loki's character after watching the movie Thor. Have I said that yet? Tom Hiddleston's Loki was superb! He created a character with so much angst and depth. (with absolutely NO comparison to the Marvel Comics version of Loki)

Movie Loki's sure to tantalize many fan-girls for generations...as handsome, damaged men with grey personalities often do. ;D (Similar men would be Dexter, Severus Snape & Draco Malfoy of Harry Potter, Bill & Eric of Trueblood, Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Salvatore brothers from The Vampire Diaries. LOL)

Can't wait to effing watch Avengers for more Loki. (Caught the teaser trailer too. What the hell have they done to Thor and Loki's hair? ROFL. It's Loki the Porcupine and Thor the Barbie Doll! *guffaws*)

I've done a quick face collage of my main characters - only for those who are interested; don't bother if you wish to imagine your own characters - as well as many snapshots of 'human Loki'. Enjoy! (Go to my ffnet profile page and click the 'My Story Reference Pics' link to find them) Also, you can check out my crap on Tumblr by clicking my 'Homepage' link. (lotsa Loki and Hiddleston pics)

Don't hesitate to leave me a note commenting on my Loki story. I'd love to hear from you guys!

(= ^_^=)


	2. Lost and Found

*Avengers Fan-fiction by Kemurikat*

* * *

><p><strong>Such Fragile Creatures: Act 02 - Lost and Found<strong>

* * *

><p>Bryn awoke from a deep sleep with a loud yawn, stretching out her sore limbs. The queen-sized bed she'd slept in felt infinitely more comfortable than the springy mattress in her basement apartment. Looking around, her 'spare' bedroom resembled the interior of a five star hotel room with every wall suspiciously painted in shades of her favorite colors. Here was clear evidence of why Alvi and Mars had been constantly bugging her about moving in with them since they got their place renovated.<p>

_Oh, those two! They've been planning this from the beginning!_

Her room had a walkout balcony, a 55-inch LCD screen mounted on the wall at the foot of the bed, matching sets of dark-stained solid oak antique furniture, a mini-fridge incorporated into one of the night-stand tables, and from where she sat, saw that large windows brightly lit her en-suite bathroom with a European spa theme complemented by a hand-carved stone bathtub. She knew of Alvi's background in architecture and interior design, but wow, the place was gorgeous! Grinning, she flopped back down into bed, spreading her limbs as she snow angel-ed her sheets.

_All the space! I can get used to this,_ Bryn thought cheerfully to herself, daydreaming about the possibility of a more permanent arrangement. _This is only temporary_, she reminded herself. She didn't want to take advantage of Alvi's and Mars's kindness. Sitting up, she glanced at a large piece of travel luggage lying on the floor of her room.

Somehow, she'd managed to dump all her essentials into one big suitcase last night. She had some serious unpacking to do.

Bryn stood up and parted the tall curtains to her room's balcony, the bright sunshine making her squint. Unlocking the sliding glass door, she walked outside and shut it behind her, padding over barefoot to the eighth floor balcony's stone balustrade. Peering over the edge, her chin settled on her forearms as she watched the busy activity of the city street below her. Market Street of downtown San Francisco was busy 24 hours a day because of tourists and she laughed as a group of Japanese visitors were ravenously snapping pictures, crowding around a provocatively costumed male sauntering down the sidewalk.

_What time is it anyway?_ Bryn wondered. She'd removed her watch last night and forgot to put it back on.

Reentering her room, she went straight for her en-suite bathroom and looked at her reflection on the large vanity mirror.

_Ugh. I look awful._

Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin rather pasty. She had dark bruises on both her arms and bandaged cuts Alvi or Mars covered up. Since she was on the subject of bandages, she tied her tangled hair back and went to check up on the 'stray' she'd taken in, who was no longer her sole responsibility anymore. Part of her debated whether involving 'Punch and Judy' was a good idea. She laughed to herself. Lately, silly nicknames had been popping into her head.

Leaving her bedroom, she was shocked by what she saw as she walked through the door. In amazement, she gawked at the large common room which was brightly lit by an enormous, circular, ornate cathedral skylight and featured a beautiful, exquisite concert grand piano surrounded by expensive looking leather furniture. _Holy shit._ She hadn't visited Alvi's and Mars's penthouse condo since they'd taken her home with them that night from the park. She'd stayed with them for a few nights before finding her basement apartment, but at the time, their condo was still under construction and nowhere near as opulent as it was now. Alvi had redesigned the place fit for entertaining foreign dignitaries!

Her eyes wandered in a clockwise direction. To her right, tucked around a corner wall was the double-door entrance to their penthouse unit and another spare bedroom beside hers where her 'stray' lay sedated. Pivoting left, she followed the dark hardwood floor a few paces down to the end of a short hallway where the master bedroom belonging to the Dynamic Duo was situated. There was a modern chef's kitchen with possibly another walkout balcony, a closed door leading to the corridor of the laundry area and finally the living room, which was beside the kitchen, but could be separated by unfolding dark, fanned, floor to ceiling wooden panels on rails that completely enclosed it. When she walked slightly to the left to get a better view of the entire living room, she saw a digital projector mounted to the ceiling, the biggest LCD television she'd ever seen mounted to the wall and a thick, glass cabinet that ran along the bottom that served to display a sophisticated home theatre system. A long, sectioned, reclinable black leather couch littered with soft, fluffy pillows and matching bean bags on the floor made the place look like it was specially designed for epic movie marathons.

_Whoa! I gotta get Alvi to show me how to work that sweet setup,_ Bryn thought, eyeing the entertainment system excitedly.

Returning to her originally scheduled task of checking on her bizarre patient, Bryn walked slowly toward the spare bedroom next to hers, took a deep breath and opened the door.

The room's curtains were drawn shut, letting in very little light, giving the illusion of perpetual dusk. On the bed was her 'stray' still blissfully sedated, his right arm rebound and realigned along with the bones of his left hand. Bryn feared that he a punctured lung during the crazy fit he had last night and they'd have no other choice but to admit him to a hospital. Thankfully, all his ribs were in the right place.

Mars was good friends with the pharmacy manager downstairs and managed to acquire two bags of intravenous fluids their 'stray' needed during his sedation so he wouldn't dehydrate. She'd pumped enough of a dose in him to make him sleep for days! It's a miracle she hadn't killed him yet. Her playing doctor was getting out of hand. _Why_ was she putting herself through all this, and for _what_? A complete stranger who might turn out to be nothing more than an escaped mental patient or a serial murderer or - sure, why the hell not? - a fucking _alien_.

Sitting down cross-legged near the edge of her stray's king-sized mattress, Bryn gazed at the slack face of the man she impulsively took under her wing. She had a strange feeling that his deceptively peaceful sleep was anything but, and hoped that there would be no more repeat performances of the self-destructive monster she had the misfortune of witnessing.

Scooting closer to her 'stray,' Bryn reached over and removed a strand of hair from his face and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. No fever. Odd. After the damage he'd done to himself, he should be burning up again, even a little, but it was the exact opposite: he felt _cold_...like he was dead! Her fingers instantly sought the pulse point on his neck and when she found it strong and steady, she exhaled in relief.

A memory of her stray's insane outburst last night caught her attention. His skin had been ice cold to the touch when she'd made a last desperate gamble as she channeled her favorite professional wrestler by grabbing a hold of his neck to jam the needle in.

_Hmm_. An errant thought popped into her head. Bryn added 'Secret Military Science Experiment' to her stray's list of possible origins. Maybe the guy had 'Property of the United States Government' tattooed with invisible ink to one of his butt cheeks. A simple UV lamp scan was enough to reveal it.

_Man, I've got a crazy imagination,_ Bryn laughed to herself.

Her peripheral vision caught the numbers on the digital display of the alarm clock on the bedside table which told her that it was three-thirty in the afternoon. Since the three of them had been awake until almost ten in the morning, she was surprised she felt rested and lively.

_I should go unpack._

She gave a final glance to her 'stray' before leaving the room.

* * *

><p>In a little town in New Mexico, a converted retro-style cafe loaded with various scientific instruments served as workstation and living space for astrophysicist, Jane Foster and her assistant Darcy Lewis. Using generous funding from the shadow organization known as S.H.I.E.L.D, Jane was able to continue her focused research on bridging the way to other dimensions for exploration. Specifically, to the Realm of Asgard.<p>

She and Darcy had recently picked up a blip with atmospheric conditions similar to the circumstances of Thor's arrival and they've been hard at work trying to decrypt the data. It would have been much harder without the help of some of S.H.I.E.L.D's expensive equipment - especially the models built by celebrated genius and Iron Man super hero, Tony Stark. Jane knew in her gut that their latest blip was _the one _and she wanted to conceal her findings from S.H.I.E.L.D. itself. There was a more _personal_ side to her search for a gateway.

"Yes!" It was a general location at least and to Darcy Lewis, it was progress. "California," she announced, dropping her stack of printouts in front of Jane Foster who quickly looked them over. "Whaddaya think?"

"In the mood for an extended road trip?" Jane asked with a grin, her face lit up like the Vegas strip.

Darcy took it as a good sign. She'd been getting a bit worried about Jane's obsessive behavior whenever it came to the subject of Asgard and was close to planning an intervention. These days, Jane rarely smiled except to be polite, her appetite was in question since she was loosing weight and there were darkening circles under her eyes. Seeing her smile this cheerfully was a welcome change. "One road trip coming up."

"Once we're in California, we can narrow down the anomaly's location," Jane said, walking away and disappearing into her fugue of calculations.

Sighing, Darcy thought about which part of California they were headed to and what kind of recreational opportunities she could rope Jane into doing. As she thought about it, from the other side of the cafe, a man in a black business suit strode toward them. She stiffened and frowned when she recognized who it was. _Uh-oh_.

"Excuse me, Jane Foster?"

"What do _you_ want?" Jane said sourly as she reluctantly turned around, glaring at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with a scowl. _Oh, no, no, no! Not now!_ She was still angry about the forceful seizure of all her scientific equipment when Thor had first arrived.

"I come in peace," Agent Philip Coulson said flatly, accompanied by his infuriating (good) poker face. "I'm only here to deliver this to you personally." He handed Jane a red and gold envelope. "Mister Stark has need of your scientific expertise."

Puzzled, Jane quickly opened it and pulled out a folded card. It was an invitation. Curious, Darcy had wandered to her side as the pair read what it said out loud.

"The honour of your presence

is requested

at the Stark Residence

Point Dume Bluff

Malibu, California

on Saturday, March 19th

for Cocktails and Hors d'oeuvres

at seven o'clock in the evening

Dinner immediately following,

Anthony Stark."

Both women were speechless for a long moment.

"Wait. That's _tomorrow!_" Jane exclaimed in shock.

"Everything's been arranged. I'll be escorting you to a private jet tonight at nine o'clock," Agent Coulson replied smoothly.

"That's in less than two hours!" Darcy said in surprise. "You better get going, girl."

"I was also told that you may bring a friend with you, if it makes you more comfortable," Agent Coulson added when he saw Foster's hesitation.

Darcy immediately made a pleading face. She'd read about the notorious multibillionaire inventor and wouldn't miss the opportunity to get a glimpse of his home, not to mention meeting a bona-fide celebrity super-hero in person. She's gonna get to meet the amazing _Iron Man_ for fuck's sake! When she whimpered, Jane smiled and conceded.

"Fine. I accept his invitation," Jane answered. "Does Mister Stark normally do this? Expect people to drop whatever they're doing at his request?"

"I don't know the man personally but I suspect that it happens often, yes," Agent Coulson said. "Once you ladies are ready to go, I'll be waiting outside."

The two women followed Agent Coulson with their eyes till he left the building, making sure he wasn't within earshot so they could speak in private.

"The timing couldn't be more perfect, Dare," Jane said, grinning, the wheels in her head spinning madly. I might even get Stark to pay for our little expedition."

"I love you when you're bad," Darcy teased, briskly walking to her desk to grab her laptop and some notes. "Oh, crap. I got nothing to wear!"

"We have time. We'll go shopping, my treat," Jane said with a wink. "It's the least I can do for you being stuck with me."

"Hey, I _wanted_ to stay...but I like the offer just the same," Darcy replied with a grin.

"Okay. Let's do this. I need to know what Mister Stark wants that he has to yank me out of here to meet me in person," Jane spoke, gathering her own laptop into a case along with her treasured notebook. _I'll bet a one way ticket to Asgard that it has something to do with my research._

* * *

><p>His last coherent memory was a sharp sting to the side of his neck. Everything about last night was a jumbled, irrational blur, and it gave him a piercing migraine whenever he attempted to remember.<p>

Moaning, Loki opened his eyes to a darkened bedchamber. His limited awareness only gave him the impression of how much larger the place he now occupied was, and of how much higher he was from the ground. There was a time when he could will his senses to stretch further out, use his magic to gleam clearly and accurately entire galaxies for a specific object or person within them, even sensing the smallest particle adrift in the stellar ether.

There was no point in lamenting over the magnitude of what he'd lost and on the sins of his past. Unlike Thor, there would be no Sif or The Warriors Three to come searching for him. Best to move forward a step at a time and concentrate on more productive things, the most important being the steady and speedy recovery of his worthless mortal body. That meant behaving himself, earning the trust of those around him, using them to closely observe their customs and mannerisms. He had to find Thor's human woman, Jane Foster and twist her romantic idealism to his advantage.

Loki smiled slightly. Scheming made him feel more like his old self.

When he decided to flex his fingers, he discovered that he couldn't quite move them on _both_ arms. He slowly lifted up his left hand and stared at the thick bandages that encased it.

_How did I...?_ That's when he saw a tube attached to his arm. _What's this?_ The tube led to a nearly empty bag of clear fluid dangling on a metal hook that was part of a tall, metal pole. _How...intrusive. _When he moved to pull the tube out of his arm, he frowned. _Curse it. I have no fingers to use._

Groaning in exasperation, Loki grumbled to himself. _Why does that stubborn mortal female insist on healing me? Just leave me to die by the roadside, you silly girl!_

The one thing he detested _most_ of all was helplessness.

_Enough_, he reminded himself, when his thoughts turned dark.

_What am I to do now?_

He heard a noise and glanced over to see the female named Bryn enter the bedchamber. At least it was a familiar face. The bedchamber was dark and she hadn't noticed that he was awake...or perhaps - if the tube attached to his arm was to blame - she was not expecting him to be. His eyes followed her as she moved around, leaving various items behind in drawers and on shelves. It amused him that she still hadn't realized he was wide awake.

The minute the items she had in her arms were gone, she turned in his direction and approached the bed. As she closed the distance between them, he looked directly into her eyes, causing the female to squeal in surprise and stumble backwards. He smiled slightly in delight.

"Shit! How in hell are you even _awake_?" Bryn said out loud. At the very least, the major tranquilizer dose she'd pumped into him wasn't due to wear off until tomorrow evening. She neared the bed again and saw the expression on the man's face. _Is this guy...smiling?_

In a huff, Bryn stomped toward the curtains and drew them back, flooding the room in bright afternoon sunshine. She smirked when her 'stray' flinched away, grunting in protest. _Hah! Not smiling now. _She stood at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed and watched him squinting till his eyes adjusted. When they did, he looked back at her, his face clearly annoyed.

"I know you can talk." _Especially after all that awful howling he did last night_. "Let's start with your name," Bryn demanded sternly. _I just hope he understands English._

Staring at the mortal female, Loki thought of what to say. _My name...a simple word that brings with it a wealth of questions I'd rather not answer. What should I call myself then?_

"Please, don't tell me you've got amnesia," Bryn said, gripping the king-sized bed's antique wooden footboard with her hands and leaning her weight against her arms. She bowed her head and shook it, afraid she'd start laughing from the ridiculous possibility.

"Adam...Adam Laoki," he said, barely recognizing his own voice from how raspy it sounded. He came across the name 'Adam' as a child when he found a book containing a collection of stories from Midgard in Asgard's Repository of Knowledge.

Bryn's head shot up and her mouth hung open in surprise. At least she now had confirmation of two things: her 'stray' didn't have amnesia and he understood English.

"Wait, just a sec," Bryn said excitedly, sprinting out of the room with a bounce.

Loki's eyebrows crushed together in confusion. _What was that about?_

The female returned shortly with a glass of water that again contained the odd little object she called a 'straw.'

_Ah, what a thoughtful girl._ He was indeed very thirsty.

He allowed her to assist him since he had no other way of drinking, his head propped upright once more as he drew liquid in with the straw.

"Not too fast," Bryn warned. The man practically drank every drop. _Geez, he's gonna need to pee soon. Maybe I can ask Alvi or Mars to help with that._ A naughty thought flashed into her head and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. _Knowing those two, this guy's in for a world of trouble._

Clearing his throat, Loki felt much better after a long drink. The female's eyes held a shimmer of amusement that puzzled him. Was she reveling in his helplessness? The thought angered him as he stared back at her.

_Wow. His eyes are even greener than I thought,_ Bryn observed. In the brilliance of the afternoon sunshine, her 'stray's' eyes glittered like the emeralds on a necklace she'd once seen in a window-shop display as a child. She almost had the urge to pluck at his eyes with her fingers.

"Why do you stare?" Loki asked, his brows crunching. The female visibly blushed and looked away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," Bryn said, muttering a soft curse and walking out of the room with the empty glass.

_Humans. What ludicrously coy, fragile creatures...doomed to live insignificantly short lives that cause them to repeat their mistakes in an endless cycle of destruction and rebirth._

Since the first explorations of Midgard were those among the Asgardians that remained fond of the fledgeling civilization of Earth. Why that was, he couldn't fathom. As a child, he'd periodically read accounts from the written journals of these explorers and always found a common pattern of ignorance, fear and violence that greeted Asgardian travelers in their interactions with humans.

_Earth's inhabitants are nothing but slithering insects, procreating to the point of overpopulation, eventually destroying themselves and the world they live in. With every reinvention, humans delude themselves into thinking that their paltry technologies would help them uncover the mysteries of life and the universe. Always pursuing their searches in the wrong directions, inevitably coming to the wrong conclusions. _

_If humans only knew how misguided they are! Pitiable and lost as they stubbornly bang their heads against insurmountable walls they desperately try to break._

Pausing his inner tirade, Loki snickered disparagingly, then sighed heavily.

_Alas...I am now an unwilling participant in this human cycle. Each day that passes will be a constant reminder of all that I've lost. Cruel punishment indeed...that with this new life, such as it is...I'm denied even the mercy of forgetfulness._

Loki's rumination was interrupted by the noise of hushed conversation from _three_ individuals outside his wide-open bedroom door. His limited hearing could barely make out their words.

"Guys, _behave_," Bryn hissed as she walked in behind two males that preceded her. They appeared to be the owners of the new dwelling he was now in, judging by the air of authority that surrounded them; authority that was particularly stronger in the taller male.

"Losh, Bryn, he's _cute_. No wonder you brought him home," Mars told her, barely making a show of trying to hide his comment. "Ow!" He laughed when Bryn blushed and punched him on the arm. Now that their tall, fair and handsome guest was wide awake in natural light, seated upright and tidied up, the three of them got a better look at him.

"Hello, there. Forgive our appearances but you're awake ahead of schedule," the taller man spoke. Normally, he and Mars were impeccably dressed when out in public or meeting strangers. Having to face their guest in the rumpled pajamas they were in was rather embarrassing. "I'm Alvis Werner, this is my partner Marius Casen and I believe you've met the lovely, Brynhild Seaver.

_Not formally, no. Brynhild, is it? Interesting._

"When you speak of appearances, Alvis Werner, I think mine is the _least_ appealing of us four," Loki answered, effectively easing the man's discomfort. "A pleasure to make your formal acquaintances, gentlemen, lady. My name is Adam Laoki."

Bryn was taken aback by how well-spoken he was. Also, how the hell was the guy so _lucid_? He shouldn't be able to think, let alone talk! Then again, he wasn't supposed to be awake either. The tag 'Secret Government Science Experiment' shot to the top of her 'Adam Laoki Origins' list.

She glanced at her companions who'd been equally affected by her 'stray' but for different reasons...and she'd rather not speculate on what they were. Judging by the expressions on both men's faces, she could easily guess.

Mars's mouth hung open slightly, whatever words he meant to say had lodged themselves in the back of his throat. Alvis's eyebrows had migrated to the top of his forehead, his lips had the slight curl of a smile.

_Hold on a minute. _ "Hey, Adam, I thought you couldn't speak a word of English!" Bryn said in outrage. _Crap_. She hadn't meant to say it so loud but she was steamed about being lead on.

"My apologies, Brynhild, if I gave you that impression. When I awoke, I had no idea where I was. Though I am grateful that you found me, I needed time to gauge your intentions," Loki explained.

"Oh, um, I guess you're right," Bryn said, fidgeting slightly, regretting her outburst.

"Laoki. That's a strange surname," Alvis mentioned. "Where are you from?"

_Straight to the point. I expected as much from that one._ "Iceland," Loki answered simply.

"You're a long way from home," Alvis stated, fishing for more information.

"I am. Very much so," Loki replied sadly, his expression distant.

"Bryn told us she found you in a dumpster. You were heavily injured, stripped of your clothing and left there to die."

"Alvis, maybe now's not the best time to interrogate him, hmm?" Mars whispered softly to his partner.

"It's the prefect time, Marius," Alvi countered. "We're extending our hospitality to him and I'd like the courtesy of knowing who we're dealing with. I don't want any trouble."

"I assure you, Alvis Werner, I bring you no trouble. You've already been more than generous allowing a stranger such as myself into your home. As I am your guest and under your care, I do have an obligation to tell you more about who I am," Loki replied easily. Time to put his silver-tongue to good use. "To be perfectly honest, I have no idea why I am here or know the people responsible for my current condition. My last memory was..." He paused as the final images before his supposed death flitted through his mind. "Forgive me, the details are rather personal. A long story short, in my homeland, I had a very recent, very...violent quarrel with my brother and father. I've been cast out of my family and sent adrift, so to speak." He cleared his throat of the bitterness in his voice. "I am all that you see. Everything I had, I left behind...or at least...tried to."

There were muffled gasps.

"Good Lord," Alvis blurted out. "You tried to kill yourself."

"I did...but not in the manner that I was found," Loki confessed. _Good. They believe me. They will ask no further questions. At least for now._ His best lies were always the ones that were parallel to the truth. _Now, for my closing statement._

"I am grateful to you, Alvis, Marius, for your hospitality, and to you, Brynhild, for finding me when you did. Forgive me, I've regrettably become a burden to you all."

The three humans quickly fumbled over themselves trying to assuage and reassure him.

_It is done. I've appeased these mortals enough for them to trust me._ His body abruptly felt heavier. _I feel tired._

"Okay, we're done. Adam needs to rest. I think twenty questions took a lot out of him," Bryn said. Agreeing with her, Alvis and Marius turned to leave. "Hold on." She walked closer to the bed and looked sincerely at Adam. "I know you wanna sleep but...do you need to go the bathroom? We've been pumping fluids into you for almost 24 hours now."

_I suppose there's no harm in that_, Loki thought tiredly. Having to deal with a human excretory system simply added more insult to his injury.

"Why not?" he said rather unenthusiastically. With a slight sting, he watched as Bryn pulled the needle imbedded in his arm attached to the thin tube. She then placed a good amount of pressure on the tiny hole left behind on his skin with a small, damp poultice, placing a sticky strip of bandage across it, securing it to his arm.

The three mortals carefully helped him to a standing position and off the bed which made him feel infinitely worse.

"Uh-oh. He's not looking too good. I think he's gonna hurl," Bryn said worriedly.

At her warning, Mars and Alvi hastened Adam to the room's en-suite bathroom and carefully held him over the toilet where he vomited out a gush of black liquid.

In reaction, Bryn, Alvis and Marius all chorused out colorful curse words along with expressions of disgust and surprise.

Loki stared, horrified by what had happened and what he was seeing. Unknown to the three mortals that circled him, black was the color of his blood in Jotun-form that Odin had cleverly disguised as red while he lived in Asgard. Panic took him as his body quaked in distress and he whimpered in anxiety. He felt imprisoned by the arms that held him and he fought to be free of them.

"Adam, Adam _relax!_" Alvis commanded, tightening his grip on the man. He glanced at his life-partner, Mars, highly commending him for staying to help despite the sickening circumstances. He couldn't restrain Adam by himself and they had to prevent their charge from injuring himself further. Like him, Mars felt a strong compassion for their guest who was officially a _stray_ in every sense of the word after hearing his story. Their desire to protect and care for him was now paramount.

When Loki thankfully stopped struggling, Bryn quickly cleaned Adam up and flushed the gross-looking black stuff down the toilet as they prepared to leave.

"W-wait..." Loki said weakly. He body still trembled and his eyes were bloodshot. "I...I need...to relieve myself." He spoke so softly, they barely heard him.

"Sorry, my cue to leave," Bryn said. "I think you guys can take it from here?"

"We'll be fine," Alvis said as she walked out of the bathroom. "Well, Adam. Let's see to you, shall we?"

* * *

><p>Bryn waited quietly outside, sitting on Adam's king-sized bed as she listened to the muffled noises of activity from behind the bathroom door. Dropping back on the bed with a bounce, she rubbed at her face, hoping that the motion brought her all the answers she needed.<p>

_Okay, whadda we got...Adam Laoki, native of Iceland - who, interestingly enough, sounds totally British - disowned by his family, tried to kill himself but doesn't know how he ended up naked in a trash bin here in America._

The whole situation was worse than she thought. Her humane act of extending a helping hand to someone in need was rapidly snow-blowing into an extremely _weird_ and possibly volatile mess. Without knowing the details of why Adam was renounced by his own family, whatever he did, it must've been severe.

_He did say he had a 'violent' argument with his brother and father. Could he have...?_

She nibbled her lower lip at the thought. Also, the man she'd rescued had _wanted_ to die...hadn't he? The three of them were now on suicide watch. Shit.

Then there was the incident in the bathroom where Adam puked out a puddle of black guck. Whatever the stuff was, Adam was just as shocked about it as they were.

_No solids. At least he didn't barf out any of his major organs._

When the en-suite's bathroom door opened, Bryn slid out of Adam's guest bed.

"Here we go, almost there," Alvis coaxed as he and Mars assisted the wincing man toward the bed. They were unaware that Bryn noticed their strangely flushed faces.

"Wait, please," Adam said softly when they stopped near the bed. "May I go outside?" He looked longingly in the direction of the balcony.

"In the condition your in..." Bryn began, glancing at both Alvi and Mars for their opinion.

"Please?" Adam pleaded, almost desperately.

_Geez, who can resist a face like that_, Bryn thought. "You guys help him to one of the loungers then. I'll get a blanket and some pillows."

They helped their guest get settled on one of the cushioned loungers on the balcony of his room. He also politely refused the blanket Bryn offered him.

"I wish for the sun to warm my skin," Adam said, smiling gratefully and closing his eyes. Bryn held a large glass of Evian in her hands with a straw ready.

"Here, you should drink some water. You need it, especially after you throw up," Bryn offered. Adam obeyed quietly and drank most of the water.

Clearing his throat, Alvi signaled Mars to go back inside with him.

Ignoring them for the moment, Bryn sat down on the lounger beside Adam. His eyes had drifted shut as he sat completely content under the glow of the afternoon sun.

"I'll be right back. You gonna be okay out here for a while?" Bryn asked. She was curious about where Alvi and Mars were off to in such a hurry.

"Nothing would please me more," Adam replied with a sigh, his eyes remaining shut.

Patting him on the arm, Bryn left the balcony and jogged out of Adam's bedroom to the condo unit's common room where she saw Mars and Alvi having a hushed conversation in the kitchen. They both held old fashioned crystal whiskey glasses half-filled with liquor as they shared an oversized bottle of Crown Royal Special Reserve.

"I guess we've got our work cut out for us," Alvi said, inclining his head toward one of their guest rooms to indicate he was referring to Adam. He stopped short when he saw Bryn approaching.

She came to a halt by the granite countertop, looking sheepish.

"Listen, guys, I'm really sorry you're both involved in this mess I made," Bryn said apologetically.

"Oh, hush, dear. We're glad to help. Alvi's right. You can't take care of him alone," Mars replied. He downed the rest of his glass's contents, the oncoming buzz making him feel better. He watched as Alvi poured himself another glass of Crown Royal.

Alvis glanced at his spouse and Mars smiled. They repeated this three or four times before the two men erupted into a fit of uncontrollable chortling.

Suppressing a grin, she walked closer toward them. She'd seen this before. Whenever the two of them were stressed out, it was something they did to relieve the tension. They got drunk and had a laugh marathon. The main difference with this one was that they kept looking in the direction of Adam's guest bedroom.

"Okay, what're you guys up to?" Bryn asked, playing along, her arms poised on her hips. "If it's what I think it is, shame on you two. We don't even know if he's gay!"

The two men laughed even harder after her comment. It took a while before either of them calmed down enough to speak.

"Oh, please, we're not _that_ depraved. Anyway, look at you, little miss high-and-mighty. Stop pretending you don't know what Vivi and I are fussing about," Mars scolded. "You've _seen_ him too, haven't you? I still can't believe he's _real_. He's like the Handsome Prince from a fairly tale and...Lord Have Mercy, those _eyes_, they're so _green_, like jewels. Good Heavens, girl, are you _blind_? You brought home Adonis in the flesh!"

"Or possibly Eros himself," Alvi remarked in a daze as he kept looking at his right hand.

"What's wrong with _him_?" Bryn asked.

"Oh, he's just being melodramatic. I'm just fucking envious he got to _touch_ him," Mars replied. "It was a spiritual experience, wasn't it, love?"

"You guys are so bad," Bryn reprimanded, shaking her head but giggled nonetheless. "Anyway, since we're talking about Adam...don't you guys think it's weird that a man his age has skin that _soft_...and then he's got the totally hairless thing going that's basically flawless. Now that you mention it Mars, the way he's built, he might as well _be_ a living statue."

Bryn rolled her eyes when the two men blushed deeply and swooned, then started laughing again. _I think I better give them time to get things sorted and out of their system_. "You guys have fun while I go check on Adam."

* * *

><p>It was nearing the end of the winter season as she wandered Freya's Hall in the Realm of Vanaheim. Soon, when the first signs of spring covered the snow-blanketed land in lush, velvety green, she, together with Freya, would journey to Asgard.<p>

For Freya, returning to Asgard was compulsory. Freya, along with her twin brother Frey and their father, Njord, were willing 'hostages' as part of a peace treaty between Asgard and Vanaheim. Long ago, when inhabitants of both Realms crossed paths, a terrible war broke out between them resulting in many lives lost for both sides. Though the Vanir were seen as a mainly peaceful, agricultural race, they were sorely underestimated when they proudly stood their ground against the openly warlike Aesir, matching their ferocity and skill. With no decisive outcome to the battle on the horizon, both sides agreed to a treaty which included the exchange of 'hostages'. Certain representatives were chosen by both sides to live in a permanent period of exile away from their homelands. However, the 'hostages' from both sides were allowed staggered visits to their respective Realms, provided that they only went one at a time.

For Sigyn, her stay at Freya's Hall in Vanaheim was merely an interval from her much longer stay in the Realm of Ljossalfheim. (or Alfheim, home of the Alfar, more widely known in Midgard as the 'Light Elves') She'd dwelt with the Alfar, honored to have been invited to learn more of their magic to enhance her knowledge. Time flowed very differently in that realm, days were variable and occurred randomly with no discernible linear flow. The first thing she'd learned was to form a protective sphere around herself so that she was fully aware of the flow of time directly related to her existence. Otherwise, she'd end up staying too long in Ljossalfheim and return to Asgard at the height of Ragnarok.

The Alfar were kind and courteous to her during her stay and she learned a great deal from them, taking turns living among the Noble Houses and even with some of the more 'common' but well-respected wights. She was fortunate, being blessed and favored by their kind, treated with the utmost respect and care, always on their best behavior toward her. The Alfar, by nature, were as transitional and moody as the environment they inhabited. With their magic and glamour, they constantly modified their surroundings as they saw fit, an act that was a physical extension of themselves, as simple and natural as taking a breath. She in turn had become quite fond of them and their carefree attitude, vowing to return for constant visits in the future.

However, enhancing her skill in the art of magic wasn't her sole purpose for visiting Ljossalfheim. When she first began her training, she'd purposefully sought out the same instructors Loki Odinson had learned from, hoping to beat his 'record' for mastery of a certain glamour. When Loki was very young, the mysterious dark-haired son of Odin was sent here when he showed an aptitude for magic. Apparently, Loki had surpassed all expectations, impressing all his Alfar tutors with how quickly he'd mastered a particular skill. He'd learned everything so rapidly that they happily sent him back to Asgard before the mischievous little boy's appetite for knowledge included discovering how to warp the Realm of Ljossalfheim itself.

In one of her many conversations with Loki, he'd told her that he hadn't visited the Alfar since he was a boy. She wondered if the Alfar had 'banned' him from ever setting foot in their Realm again, for fear of him potentially wreaking havoc on the magical fabric of their environment.

When she first met Loki in the Hall of Gladsheim during a feast when she was a little girl, he was an adolescent, gentle and patient with her compared to all the other Aesir children. She was an enormously shy girl and hid frequently behind her foster-father Njord, and her foster-siblings, Frey and Freya during her visit. Loki had coaxed her out with sparkling displays of magic and transformation that both delighted and fascinated her. He made shimmering trails of light dance around her, then turned himself into a bird and flew in whimsical acrobatic patterns around the glittering ribbons. They played together for the rest of the night and when it was time for her to leave, he presented her with a gift of the most beautiful, sweetly scented, bright purple blossom she'd ever seen.

She placed her hand against her heart and felt the little silken bag she wore around her neck, hidden under her bodice. It was where the purple blossom, still as fresh and beautiful as the day Loki had first presented it to her, was safely kept. Perhaps, someday, when their rekindled fondness for one another grew stronger into something more than friendship, she would reveal to him her most precious treasure.

_I hope you're keeping well, friend of my heart. Please forgive me for my long absence. I shall see you soon._

* * *

><p>Loki awoke with a gasp, his eyes temporarily blinded by the brightness all around him. He cried out when his ribs stung him sharply as he tried to take a deep breath, feeling like someone had held him underwater till he ran out of air.<p>

_Where in Heimdall's Hall am I now?_ Loki thought to himself, disoriented.

Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on calming his breathing to stop his ribs from aching. Squinting as he glanced around, he remembered where was. He'd requested the mortals to leave him outside on the balcony of his room.

_How long have I been out here?_ The sun was lower on the horizon. _Not too long, it seems._ Rubbing his eyes, he had no recollection of falling asleep. _I was dreaming but...I can't remember what it was about. _It was strange and a bit worrisome. He had always been able to recall his dreams with perfect clarity. _A disadvantage of this mortal body I now inhabit, perhaps? _What other unfavorable traits must he add?

He shuddered when the memory of expelling a pool of black liquid from his mouth came into his mind. _Odin's Eye! What malady plagues this body?_

The glass door behind him slid open.

"Oh, good. You're awake," Bryn said with a smile. The guys and I just finished dinner. Thought maybe, if you're up for it, you'd like to eat something?"

Ugly memory in his mind aside, Loki felt hungry but hesitant of the kind of 'food' his new hosts had made.

"May I ask what's been prepared?"

"You're in for a treat. Alvi's a great cook when he's got the time to do it. He whipped up a batch of his special chicken stew. It's one of my favorites," Bryn beamed.

_Chicken, now an _Earth fowl and a _popular food source that was first presented to the Vikings. "_That's sounds acceptable," he replied.

"Hope you don't have any food allergies."

The female looked a bit worried. _What are 'allergies?'_ Loki wondered. Whatever they were, it sounded unpleasant.

"I would think not."

"One bowl coming up then," Bryn said and stood up. "You wanna eat out here?"

"I would like that very much," Loki said with a small smile. When the female left, he leaned back against the lounger and frowned. _Since I can't use my hands, I must be spoon-fed like an infant. How demeaning._

When the female returned, she brought company. Loki groaned. The last thing he needed were other witnesses.

"Hope you don't mind us joining you. We brought the lot in case you needed more," Alvis said, gesturing to a movable three-tiered table that Marius had pushed off to the side.

There were two large, deep, rectangular metal trays with high lids on the top tier. On the second was a large white bowl full of edible flora in various shapes, sizes and colors, along with two slim pitchers containing a pale, yellowish liquid. Eating utensils, glasses, napkins, spare dishes and other small items were at the bottom.

He watched Bryn prepare two bowls of stew while Alvis and Marius loaded their plates with a heaping portion of the colorful flora and roundish chunks of roasted meat. Alvis then pulled the lounger that was beside him and positioned it on an angle, dropping one end so that it lay flat like a cushioned bench. He unfolded two miniature tables and set them alongside the bench, placing his plate on the one in front of him. Marius sat beside him and the two shared a tender kiss before they began their meal. From his peripheral vision he caught Bryn carefully observing him, sensing from her a slight amount of tension.

_Why?_

Pulling a chair closer to his lounger, Bryn sat down, placing one of the bowls she carried on a small table between them. The second bowl was nestled in her lap on a folded piece of fabric to protect her bare legs from the heat of its contents.

"I've never spoon fed anyone before, Adam, so this'll be awkward for the two of us," Bryn said as she blew on a spoonful of stew then brought it toward him. "Um...say 'ah?'"

Loki hesitated, inhaling the aroma of the stew and found it pleasing. Accepting his first taste, he discovered that the stew was to his liking. He noted that Alvis and Marius had paused their meal to watch him.

"The stew is good," Loki said with a slight nod, seeing Alvis smile with relief as Marius placed a hand on his thigh, giving it an affectionate squeeze. He sensed another slight flare of unease from Bryn. _Hmm._

Well into eating their meal, Loki noticed that whenever Alvis or Marius demonstrated physical affection toward one another, Bryn would stare at him. Was she not comfortable with what they were doing? She clearly had an easy friendship with the two males._ However, I am their guest, therefore it is _my_ comfort she worries for._ Again this puzzled him. _Why would their displays of affection bother me?_ He decided to put the subject to the test.

When it was Bryn's turn to eat her stew, he said, "It has come to my attention, Alvis, Marius, that the two of you are a mated pair?"

The three humans immediately began choking on whatever they ate or drank.

"I've never heard it put _that_ way before," Marius managed to say after clearing his throat. "It makes us sound like a pair of prized pandas from the World Wildlife Fund," he chuckled out, Alvis and Bryn joining him.

"I mean no offense," Loki replied. Their reactions confused him.

"Oh, no, no. None taken, Adam," Alvis replied quickly. "It's just that, well, you're not from around here, so we were just surprised by the way you described our relationship. I take it that what Marius and I do isn't making you uncomfortable?"

"No, why should it?" Loki asked, his brows creasing.

The three humans exchanged glances.

"I guess I just assumed that it did," Bryn piped in, shrugging.

"Why would displays of affection bother me?" Loki asked, genuinely curious, turning toward Bryn beside him. "Alvis and Marius are obviously in love and it's only natural that they show this."

"I _know_ that but not everybody's as open-minded as you and I are," Bryn said, slightly irritated by Adam's condescending tone.

"Displays of affection are frowned upon?" Loki said, still confused.

Rolling her eyes, Bryn said, "It's not affection that's in question, Adam. You _do_ know that both Alvis and Marius are men, right?" She crossed her arms in a huff.

"Yes, I can _see_ that quite clearly," Loki said flatly with rising anger. He paused, then said, "Ah, it's _because_ they're both men that you thought I'd be bothered, correct?"

"Uno! Give the guy a cookie," Bryn remarked with a smirk, inclining her head.

"We don't call her our little spitfire for nothing," Alvis said, trying to ease the tension between them as Marius grinned.

"I still don't understand why you assumed that displays of affection, especially ones made by couples of the same sex, would bother or offend me," Loki remarked, looking pointedly at Bryn.

"Well, I had no idea that people living in Iceland were so liberal," Bryn said, shrugging.

"Actually, Bryn, the Scandinavian countries are reputed to be the most progressively gay-friendly environments, and are also the leading benchmarks for the legalization of both marriage and adoption for same-sex couples," Alvis explained. "Tolerance and acceptance may not be at a hundred percent yet but it's constantly improving."

"Alvi and I might go there someday when we retire," Marius said, nudging his partner playfully. "So, dearie, we're in it for the long haul." He gave his husband an affectionate gaze. "I can't imagine anyone else I'd want to spend the rest of my life with."

"Then I wish you both great happiness till your waning years and when you both pass into the afterlife, may your souls remain together for all time," Loki recited in his best translation of a blessing he'd once heard from Frey the Vanir, when he'd attended a Joining Ceremony out of curiosity during his visit to Vanaheim. Since Frey favored nontraditional unions because of his marriage to the Jotun giantess, Gerda, he thought it was appropriate.

His words had the desired effect when Alvis and Marius were visibly touched. Bryn looked stunned.

"That's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," Marius breathed, the fork he held falling to his plate with a clatter.

"Thank you, Adam," Alvis replied, a bit more composed but just as moved.

"It's the least I can do in gratitude to you both for your gracious hospitality," Loki said sincerely, nodding briefly.

"You flatter us too much with your formality, Adam," Alvis remarked with a warm smile. "I must say, you speak _exceptionally_ good British English for a native of Iceland. No trace of an accent at all."

"It was my father's wish that I learn to speak diplomatically and the many tutors responsible for my education lived abroad," Loki answered quickly. _ I must tread this carefully or risk getting caught._ What he knew of Earth's customs were outdated and his knowledge of its various kingdoms, limited. He'd only visited this world twice. The first was out of curiosity and mischief when he was a boy with his brother, Thor; the second was...

A pang of sadness swept over him.

"Adam, hey, you all right?" Bryn asked worriedly.

"I...I feel dizzy," Loki said, which was partly true, as he seized the opportunity to abruptly end the current topic of discussion.

The three mortals instantly assisted him back into his bedchamber and into bed. Watching them quietly from where he lay, his two male hosts efficiently scooped up their dinner items from the balcony onto the moving table and out the door. Bryn had taken one of the pitchers of the pale, yellowish liquid, pouring some of it into a tall glass and storing the rest in the night-stand beside his bed, where he'd felt a curious draft of crisp, cold air.

"Here, have a sip," Bryn instructed. When he did so, he paused after his first mouthful. The drink had a pleasant flavor of both tart and sweet.

"What's this brew called?" Loki asked.

'_Brew?' Where are we, Medieval Times?_ "It's lemonade. You've never had lemonade before?" Bryn said in disbelief. He shook his head. "Seriously?" _Were you raised in a cave?_

Shrugging, he said, "I simply haven't come across it before." Loki then pretended to yawn.

"Okay. You've had a long day. I'll see you tomorrow," Bryn said with a smile as she stood up and closed the heavy drapes that covered the glass doors to the balcony. "Good night."

Alone, Loki shut his eyes tightly, rebelling against the images that surfaced in his mind. He wasn't ready to face the precious memory that was conjured up in casual conversation. It reminded him of the home he'd lost, of his childhood filled with days that were simple and carefree...of a time when he was the happiest he'd ever been in his life.

When it came to a point where his restlessness nearly overwhelmed him and he feared that the deafening silence in his bedchamber, alone with his thoughts, would drive him mad, Loki heard music. It was a welcome and enchanting distraction.

The melody came from just beyond his door, played on an instrument he was familiar with.

_A piano. I wonder who plays it?_

Soothed by the sad but hopeful song, Loki eventually drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Darcy Lewis could hardly contain her excitement as she and her boss-lady Jane Foster were seated inside the plush interior of a private Hondajet on a direct flight path toward Malibu, California to see none other than multibillionaire inventor, Tony Stark.<p>

"We're gonna meet _Iron Man_, Jane! This is _so_ supremely awesome," Darcy said with infectious glee, bouncing up and down on her leather seat restlessly like a five-year-old child. Jane couldn't help but smile. When she started up a silly dance, Jane laughed.

"Would you ladies like another cocktail?" an attractive male steward asked them pleasantly. He had wavy, light-brown hair, piercing blue eyes and a killer smile.

"Me, please," Darcy said, her hand up in the air like a student in a classroom. _I'd rather have your cock and tail, though. Rawrrr._

"I think you've had enough drinks for now," Jane cautioned her. Darcy just waved her off when the man returned, handing her another pineapple mojito.

"Great ass," Darcy mouthed to her companion silently, pointing at the male steward's firm buttocks clearly outlined by the snug pants of his uniform as he turned to leave. The two sat across from each other on their own reclinable leather seats in the first class setup of the private jet's main passenger cabin.

"I know," Jane mouthed back, flushing slightly. She was suddenly reminded of the dirty rumors she'd read on internet gossip forums about Mr. Stark's 'generosity' towards his guests. Some of them supposedly included 'special favors' given out by the men and women he employed upon request. Of course, there wasn't any concrete evidence to be found to support that claim. Another theory was that if any people were involved in such 'indecent' activity, they either denied or refused to volunteer information. It was suspected that large sums of money insured their silence and loyalty.

"You need to get laid," Darcy whispered, wagging her eyebrows and looking in the direction of the service cabin. "How long has it been for you, anyway?"

"Shut up," Jane barked back, her blush deepening, hoping the steward wasn't listening to their lewd conversation. Apparently, Darcy was aware of the rumors as well. "It hasn't been _that_ long." She fidgeted uncomfortably. "Anyway, I'm too busy with my research to find time to fool around."

"Reeeally," Darcy replied, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Does your 'straight-laced Jane' attitude got something to do with an _oh_-_so_-_hot_ _kiss_ with a certain thunder god we both met? Has tall, blond and uber-hunky completely ruined you from sharing a bed with other men?" She said her last sentence with a theatrical flourish.

"You're drunk," Jane retorted back lamely, not wanting to dignify Darcy's statement with an answer but her silence spoke volumes. Try as she might to deny it, she'd fallen in love with Thor, the strange, handsome, (incredibly muscled) kind and courageous man...who not-so-conveniently resided in another fucking universe! _Way to go, Jane. Fabulous grand-slam. You just _had_ to make finding your soul-mate an extra-special challenge._

They felt the plane change altitude just as all the 'Fasten Your Seat Belt' icons lit up brightly in the passenger cabin as their handsome steward returned to check on them.

"We're approaching Los Angeles International Airport where Mister Stark's helicopter will be waiting to shuttle you both to his Malibu home. Welcome ladies and enjoy your stay."

Glancing at her cellphone's clock for the time zone adjustment, Jane reclined deeply in her soft leather seat, rehearsing the greeting she prepared in her head as the plane descended toward the runway at L.A.X.

When the plane landed smoothly away from general traffic, Jane and a tipsy Darcy were lead across the airport tarmac to a landing pad close to a large aircraft hanger reserved exclusively for Tony Stark. The large metallic letters 'Stark Industries', which were hard to miss, were displayed in high relief above the hanger's enormous doors.

Soon, a red and gold AW119 Ke AgustaWestland helicopter was on the approach. Jane and Darcy held their hair in place as the wind from the chopper's rotors blew gales of air around them. When the helicopter's copilot door opened from the other side, out slid someone neither of them were expecting to see so soon.

"Hi, you're Jane Foster, I presume?" Tony Stark said as he shook her hand, his face plastered with a bright, charming smile. _Damn, she's a pretty one._

Whatever greeting Jane had rehearsed in her head evaporated. Stark wasn't at all what she expected. Instead of a pompous, showboating shark in a three-piece business suit, the man was relaxed and approachable in dark blue, straight leg Hudson jeans, a greystone-colored James Perse long-sleeved Henley and custom Birkenstock sandals.

"I see you've brought a friend," Tony spoke before Jane could say a word, holding out a hand to greet Darcy beside her.

"Your...you look so _casual_," Darcy replied, swaying forward.

"Whoa, there." Stark caught the young woman in time to steady her, Jane rushing alongside them.

"Oooh...you work out," Darcy remarked with a silly smile when her hands felt the firmness of the muscles on Stark's arms.

"I'm really sorry about this, Mister Stark," Jane began, glaring at her flushed, grinning friend.

"Call me Tony."

"Sure. Anyway," Jane replied, a bit hesitant. "This is my friend and research assistant Darcy Lewis. She kind of overdid the complimentary drinks on the trip over."

"Happens all the time," Stark answered smoothly with a wink.

After buckling in Jane and a giggling Darcy, Stark returned to the copilot seat of the helicopter, signaling the A-OK to his personal ground crew for takeoff.

The mechanical sound of spinning rotors grew louder and Jane felt the lurch of the chopper's liftoff as she looked out her small window at the distancing surface of the airport tarmac.

She remained silent for the entire trip, glancing occasionally at Darcy who'd fallen asleep, a small smile twitching her lips. _Time to adjust the game plan,_ she sighed to herself. She'd imagined a more formal meeting: Stark in a suit and straight to business. Instead, she got Stark looking like he'd rather go to a movie followed by a stroll along the beach.

Obviously, her first priority was to determine exactly what Tony Stark wanted from her so urgently. Was he interested in her current research and planned to offer her more funding? Was he connected to whatever Professor Selvig was doing so secretively at S.H.I.E.L.D? For the moment, all she had was speculation and she began biting her nails out of nervous habit.

The view of the ocean below through her little window caught Jane's attention. Pensively, her eyes drifted up to the clear, darkening sky, absently wondering what the weather in Asgard was like.

Soon, as the helicopter approached the shoreline, Jane caught a glimpse of a white, organically shaped structure built cleverly along the edge of a high bluff.

_Is that...is that where he lives?_ Jane exclaimed to herself in awe.

"Darcy, wake up. You gotta see this!"

"Whua? Ow, my head," Darcy said sluggishly. Jane kept on shaking her. "What?"

"Hurry, look out the window!" Jane said excitedly. When Darcy did, she was stunned.

"Is that his _house_?"

"It's getting a bit dark right now, but I can give you ladies a better tour tomorrow," Stark buzzed through their headsets.

"Holy freaking shit..."Darcy mumbled, ogling the white, curvy mansion as their helicopter did a wide arc around the property before landing on the backyard helipad.

"Isn't this supposed to be a wildlife preservation area?" Jane asked as Stark helped her disembark with a firm grip on her hand.

"Technically, yes, but I give you my word, no animals were harmed during the construction of my home," Stark replied jovially, assisting Darcy down as well. "Feeling better?" Blushing with embarrassment, she simply nodded. "If it's any consolation, I can't resist the free drinks either," he added, making her giggle.

Inside the Stark residence, Jane and Darcy continued to stare at their surroundings in astonishment. From the open concept, spacious living room, they were able to see a good general overview of the house's layout.

"Welcome to my home," Stark said, stretching out his arms, smiling proudly when both young women swiveled their heads, slowly spinning where they stood as they marveled at his incredible living space. The architectural and interior design with its rounded, flowing lines and shapes complemented as well as reflected the magnificent view of the natural landscape and of the ocean around them.

"This place is amazing," Jane complimented, unable to help herself. "It feels so...peaceful."

"That's coz I got a Feng Shui master and a Native American shaman to mojo this place up," Stark said with a grin. "We all need a special space to unwind, and for me, downstairs is where that happens."

"Downstairs?" Jane asked, catching the implication as well as a mischievous smile and twinkle in Stark's eyes.

Clearing his throat, he said, "I don't normally let people see my basement workshop but since you're both from the scientific community, I'll make a special exception...and I'll totally appreciate it if you two keep whatever you see strictly to yourselves."

Darcy's mouth hung open as she shared Jane's look of energized anticipation.

This was _big!_ Both women realized the absolute privilege of what they were given the permission to see. No journalist had _ever_ set foot inside the celebrated inventor's fabled 'underground laboratory' and the only information that existed on the topic were the wild ramblings of imaginative speculators on gossip forums.

They clung to each other as Stark led them down a winding stone staircase from the main living room beside a tall, abstract stone sculpture set in the middle of a circle filled with smooth, rounded stones. Behind it, water continuously cascaded down the side of a concave glass wall.

"No peeking," Stark teased as he punched his personal code on a digital panel that seemed to magically appear on the thick glass wall beside the door of the basement's entranceway.

"It's like Star Trek," Darcy whispered, staring in suspense at the darkness of the unlit basement.

"Ladies first," Stark said, gesturing for them to enter. "Jarvis, full illumination," he added, after they'd passed the threshold.

When they walked a few paces inside, both Jane and Darcy stopped abruptly, rooted to the basement's stone floor as their combined looks of absolute astonishment and disbelief made Stark grin with pride.

It was an impressively enormous, rectangular basement that could easily be configurated into any number of smaller modular workspaces. In Darcy and Jane's immediate area was a sort of office and corner den. Directly in front of them, the office's main desk was overrun by several different sized monitors and faced a colorfully lit jukebox, while a smaller desk's surface beside it was occupied entirely by some kind of bluish marker board. The corner den to their right had a kitchenette, a convenience store style beverage fridge, a modern comfy black couch, two matching end chairs and a wall-mounted LCD screen. Looking slightly to their left spanned the basement's slanted, polished, beige stone wall (cliffside) with a strip of angled square windows cutting across it, large pot lights casting bright spots of incandescence above the quarter shaded frames. Below the strip of windows were four exotic sports cars and two fully customized motorcycles, all parked against the slanted wall at 45 degree angles to better showcase the vehicles, as they faced the garage's curved exit ramp lit from below like a Star Wars launch tube. Further left was an open workshop littered with workbenches, metal tool cabinets, robotic arms, car parts, a half-built flame-painted roadster, and numerous other pieces of industrial mechanical equipment. In the middle of the basement garage was a large, black, gridded mat and directly above them, running along the lower ceiling of the mechanical workshop was a row of bright, florescent lights.

"Am I to assume that these women have limited access to this area for the duration of their stay here?" a disembodied male voice with an English accent spoke suddenly. Both Darcy and Jane squeaked in surprise.

"Jarvis, couldn't you have kept quiet until I introduced you?" Stark said, somewhat irritated.

"I could have but I chose not to," the disembodied voice answered back. Stark mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that," the disembodied voice said testily.

"Who...where's..." Darcy said, looking around frantically along with Jane. Was the place haunted?

"Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis, meet my _Artificially_ Intelligent supercomputer, Jarvis," Stark said, walking over to his main desk and spreading his arms out, gesturing to his set-up of monitors.

"Mister Stark, there's no need to be harsh," Jarvis admonished as Stark cleared his throat. "Miss Foster, Miss Lewis, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintances."

"Artificial Intelligence...wait, you _built_ him?" Jane said in awe.

"Jarvis is more of a joint project. My dad started the original programming and I've been modifying it ever since. These days, Jarvis's been kind of doing his own tweaks and it's starting to piss me off," Stark replied with a pseudo-friendly smile.

"Holy shit, Jane, this is totally _beyond_ awesome," Darcy said giddily in full-on nerd mode. "It's like Captain Picard on the bridge of the Enterprise."

"It's sorta similar, yeah," Stark laughed. "Go ahead, girls, ask him something."

The two women looked at each other with uncertainty for a moment. Noticing the unmistakable gleam of excitement in her friend's eyes, Jane nudged Darcy to go first.

"Um, hey, Jarvis...uh...how's it going?"

"I'm doing well, Miss Lewis, and you?"

"Great. Better than great," Darcy replied with a grin. "Um...where exactly are you?" She couldn't find a large mainframe console visible anywhere.

"For the sake of security, I must politely decline to answer that question, Miss Lewis, but since you're curious, what I can say is that I inhabit this entire structure," Jarvis replied.

_Wicked cool_. "So, who's voice does he have anyway?" Darcy asked, looking toward Stark.

"No idea. My dad wanted him to be unique so he generated Jarvis from a list of voice samples," Stark explained. "He wanted someone pleasant, courteous and intelligent."

"Like an English butler," Darcy piped in. Stark laughed in agreement.

"However, unlike an English butler, Miss Lewis, I can't serve anyone tea. No external appendages," Jarvis commented.

Jane shook her head in amazement. "He even cracks jokes."

"He's getting better at it," Stark replied, looking appreciatively at Jane.

"Mister Stark, why did you invite me here?" Jane said, getting straight to the point.

"Please, Jane, just call me Tony. Mister Stark belongs to my dad."

"Jarvis calls you, Mister Stark."

"He's programmed to. He can't address me any other way. My dad wanted some formality built into Jarvis permanently."

"Fine. Tony," Jane said. "Why am I here? Obviously, it's something very important or you would've just called me on the phone or Skyped me."

"You're right," Tony said, rocking back in his 'Captain's chair' at Jarvis's mainframe office set-up. "Jane, I wanted to see you in person because I heard that you and your colleagues made first contact with beings from another universe."

"How...how did you..." Jane said in distress, backing away slightly. Darcy was just as appalled.

"Hear me out," Stark said, leaning forward and raising his hands in a placating manner. "I'm just curious and I wanted to hear the story straight from the source."

"Who told you about what happened to us in New Mexico?" Jane asked firmly.

"That would be my associate Natalie Rushman. She works for S.H.I.E.L.D."

"I knew it!" Jane exclaimed in a huff. Images of Agent Coulson's smiling face zipped into her mind and she imagined Thor wringing the man's neck. "Those bastards are everywhere!"

Stark wheeled back in his chair slightly when he saw how angry Jane was.

"Stupid M.I.B.s barged in on us when we recorded the disturbances and took _everything_ we had. They even took my iPod! Totally cleaned our place out," Darcy explained. "We thought we'd never get any of our stuff back."

"That's really rude of them," Stark remarked in agreement.

"No shit," Jane replied irately. "All the instrumentation they took from me was one of a kind. Built them all myself. If I'd lost any of it..." Jane took a deep breath to calm herself. _If it wasn't for Thor..._ "What's _your_ involvement with them?"

"I'm sorry that your run-in with S.H.I.E.L.D. was a bad one," Stark said. "As for me, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s the only thing stopping stupid government big wigs from taking away my Iron Man suit." Jane went silent and appeared deep in thought. Darcy fidgeted beside her. "Come on, how about the three of us go over to the couch where we'll be more comfortable."

He stood and ushered the two young women over to the basement's corner den. Walking over to the clear glass door of the beverage fridge, he gripped the handle lightly. "You ladies want anything to drink?" He stood aside so they could look at its contents.

"I'll have an ice tea please," Darcy said, plopping herself onto the couch.

"Just water, thank you," Jane replied and took a seat beside her.

Stark handed them each a drink, uncapping his bottle of Asahi beer and sat down on one of the end chairs. He watched as they each took a sip, waiting patiently for Jane to initiate the conversation. "Jarvis, dim the lights. Leave the den at fifty percent."

After a while Jane said, "What exactly do you wanna know?" She looked straight at Stark trying to figure out his motives.

"Tell me everything," Stark said as he leaned forward, elbows perched on his knees, his hands clasping together with a boyish eagerness plain on his face.

Sensing no deception from him except obvious curiosity, Jane relented and began her story. As she spoke, Stark was riveted, not saying a work and never leaving her gaze once. It was a bit unnerving but Jane ignored it and continued speaking. She smiled when Darcy, every so often, included her perspective on certain events, her body temperature rising whenever there was any mention of Thor. After some time, she neared the end of her tale.

"...then whatever was left of the Destroyer fell from the sky. When the weird super-tornado cleared, out walked Thor, completely transformed, wearing this incredible looking armor with a flowing red cape behind him," Jane said and paused. "Then he argued with Agent Coulson about getting my equipment back, which they returned, thank goodness. Then, uh..."

"Then Thor grabs Jane like Tarzan and they both fly up into the sky," Darcy finished proudly. "I think it's that hammer thingy of his that gives Thor the power of flight. What's it's called again? I think it sounds like meow-meer."

"Mjollnir," Stark corrected with a grin, his eyes wide with delight. "I kinda brushed up on my Norse Mythology soon as I heard."

"That's pretty much it," Jane said, yawning. "Thor and his merry band of warriors returned to Asgard via the Bifrost and I haven't heard from them since." She stared off into the distance toward the far end of Stark's basement. "I just hope he's all right."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Stark asked.

"After Thor and his posse disappeared into the sky, we waited to see if they'd come back," Darcy said, glancing at Jane who was still staring off into space. "Then the sky got all dark and scary, like maybe something bad was happening on the other side. Unless they send us some kind of magical homing pigeon or an intergalactic telegram, we have no idea what went down." She shrugged and yawned. Jane began absently biting at her nails.

Leaning back into his chair, Stark realized that there was more to the story than Jane was willing to tell. Rubbing his eyes, he cracked his neck and stood up.

"Okay, we should all get some sleep. I'm sure you're both exhausted."

The two women stood up slowly and filed out of Stark's basement. As they trudged up the winding stone staircase in the dim light, Jane saw a glowing pattern underneath their host's Henley shirt, located in the middle of his chest.

"Yeah, this thing's impossible to hide in the dark," Stark muttered when he saw both women staring at him.

In the mansion's living room, Stark stopped, his back toward them. After scratching his head, he squared his shoulders as if reaching some kind of important decision and turned around.

"This," Stark said, tapping the glowing bluish icon on his chest. "This thing's a miniature arc reactor. It's what powers my Iron Man suit and the one thing that's keeping me alive. Cliff notes version, when I was kidnapped there was an explosion and I got hit in the chest. I've got shrapnel in my bloodstream and this thing acts like a magnet, drawing the stuff away from my heart so I don't die from massive internal hemorrhaging." Both women were speechless. "Also, I owe S.H.I.E.L.D. more than just my Iron Man suit. They helped me perfect the arc reactor technology by giving me my father's research notes. The first one I made out of palladium nearly poisoned me to death."

"Why...why are you telling us all this?" Jane ventured.

"Because, like it or not, we've all gone through profoundly unique and unimaginable experiences that, for better or worse, has changed the course of our lives...forever," Stark replied, staring at Jane sincerely. "There's no going back."

_That's exactly how I feel_, Jane said to herself, her gaze locked on Stark.

Darcy's eyes shifted between them like she was watching a tennis match, her brows crunching together as she made mental notes of their expressions.

Breaking eye contact, Stark cleared his throat and smiled. "Anyway, we should really call it a night. Pepper'll kill me if I sleep in too late. Let me show you both to your rooms."

* * *

><p>to be continued<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Included from Norse Mythology: (so far)

Sigyn

Frey

Freya

Njord

* * *

><p>Uh-oh. Ever the playboy Stark's got his sights set on Jane. Heh, heh. Will she indulge Tony or remain chaste for Thor?<p>

Much of the Norse 'filler' lore I credit to: Triple w dot northernshamanism dot org.

Stark's cars in his garage (at least from Iron Man movie 1): a 1932 Ford Flathead roadster, a 1967 Shelby Cobra, a Saleen S7, a 2008 Audi R8, and a prototype Tesla Roadster.

The song Loki heard that lulled him to sleep was Beethoven's Sonata No. 8, Op. 13 in C minor. (2nd Movement) Piano concerto easily searchable on youtube.

I think it's fortunate for Loki that Alvi and Mars decided to take him under their fabulous wings. (Besides, I didn't want Loki living underground in Bryn's tiny basement apartment) ROFL.

I'm sure some of you are wondering...what the hell is Sigyn doing here when Loki's 'supposed to fall in love' with my OC?

*laughs maniacally*

Honestly? I have no freaking idea. She seemed to just pop into the story seamlessly as I was writing this chapter. Hmm. Intriguing.

Let Chaos Reign.

Here's a bit of silliness for you guys to chew on:

Asgard (the band) (ROFL! xD)

Thor_drums

Loki_vocals

Sif_synth/vocals

Fandral_lead guitar/vocals

Hogun_rhythm guitar

Volstagg_base guitar

Also, I'd _really_ _like_ to hear from you guys. Let me know if this story is in any way remotely interesting.

(=^_^=)


	3. Mortal Healing

*Avengers Fan-fiction by Kemurikat*

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><p><strong>Such Fragile Creatures: Act 03 - Mortal Healing<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Inside the enormous structure of Asgard's Repository of Knowledge, an adolescent boy with wavy, waist-length black hair escorted a giggling young girl through the edifice's many shelves. The pair were headed directly toward a section containing a collection of stories, a majority of which were gathered from the different civilizations that inhabited the Realm of Midgard.<em>

_The adolescent boy's young charge was seated securely around his shoulders, her little hands held in his, her tiny chin resting on his head. His raven hair curtained the sides of his face as the little girl's feet twirled in his long strands playfully. They'd walked this way all morning since her arrival and Loki was more than happy to parade the little girl around in this fashion._

_"Which volume shall we read from today?" Loki asked with a wide smile, stopping alongside a colossal bookshelf._

_Maintaining a firm but gentle grip on her ankles, he felt the little girl stretch out her body to look up at the many books of the section in front of her._

_"That one," she said, pointing to a codex with purple velvet binding._

Of course, it has to be a book at the very top_, Loki grinned to himself. "Hold onto me. I shall fly us up there."_

_Squealing with delight, the little girl tightened her grip on his head. Grinning, Loki whispered a few words and they were surrounded by a greenish glow. They floated up slowly to the topmost shelf of books as the little girl guided him toward the one she'd specifically chosen._

_He pulled out the codex bound in purple velvet and read the title, "Children's and Household Tales by The Brothers Grimm." Hmm. It was a book from Earth he hadn't read before and he was just as excited to read it as the bouncing little girl seated on his shoulders. "Where would you like us to sit today?" he asked, floating them back down to the stone floor._

_There was long pause as the little girl thought about his question._

_"Himinbjorg!"_

Oh, gods, I knew she'd say tha_t, Loki thought in dismay. Ever since the day he'd decided to sneak them atop the roof of Heimdall's hall to marvel at the magnificent vista of stars that surrounded the Realm of Asgard, she'd been insisting they returned. He had truly meant it to be a _single_ trip. Getting past Asgard's Gatekeeper amused him to no end but he knew when not to push his luck. Today was one of those days._

_He shifted the little girl from his shoulders to carry her on his hip so that he could look at her when he spoke._

_"I regret that we cannot, Sigyn. Heimdall will be very cross with us if he finds us up there again," Loki said. He deliberately left out the part about a prank he'd inflicted upon the Gatekeeper yesterday. 'Sharp-Eye' wasn't too amused when he discovered that the image of a miniature goat was placed floating above his helmet that drunkenly danced to his every syllable whenever he spoke. It had irked the Golden Gladiator even more when no one had felt the need to tell him about it._

_At Loki's gentle refusal, the little girl's face fell._

_"Petal, don't be sad," Loki pleaded, addressing Sigyn by a pet name he'd fondly given her. She wasn't deliberately trying to pout, instead, she was looking away to hide her disappointment from him...which was exactly why he couldn't refuse her anything. "Very well, we shall go to Himinbjorg, but this time, it shall be you asking Heimdall for permission." He knew how shy the little girl was and the suggestion would deter her for sure._

_As expected, Sigyn's bright violet-blue eyes widened in fear._

_"Come then, let us visit Freya's hall and sit in her garden," Loki said gently. Sigyn shrugged slightly, lacking enthusiasm. Sighing, he started walking toward the nearest exit of the Repository that was closest to Folkvang where Freya's perpetual springtime gardens were located._

_With the book in his right hand and Sigyn cradled quietly against his left hip, Loki strolled out of the Repository and down a spacious corridor, one of many that interconnected the great halls of Asgard._

_About halfway toward Folkvang, Loki felt a tug on his black leather doublet._

_"Himinbjorg," Sigyn said, a determined gleam in her eyes._

_Loki stopped rather clumsily mid-stride, staring in stunned disbelief at his little ward. "Are you absolutely certain?" When she nodded, the look of determination had spread to her face as well. _

Valhalla help me, _Loki lamented to himself_.

_Wanting to get the ordeal over with, Loki decided to teleport them there before he lost his nerve. "Then I shall pop us to Himinbjorg faster than you can blink. Would you like that?"_

_"Yes, please!" Sigyn said excitedly. She'd 'popped' with Loki to different places before and it was one of her favorite ways of traveling with him. Her second favorite was riding seated in front of him on Odin All-Father's eight-legged steed, Sleipnir._

_"Here we go," Loki said, holding Sigyn tightly against his side._

_The pair stepped forth from a mist of green a few paces away from Himinbjorg's entrance at the tip of the Bifrost. Loki swallowed nervously as he walked the remaining steps toward Heimdall's hall._

_"Trickster," Heimdall's booming voice was heard past the hall's sealed gate, startling both Loki and little Sigyn who'd buried her face into his side._

_Clearing his throat, Loki fidgeted but found courage in the closeness of Sigyn's company, her small body now anchored protectively behind him. "We wish but a moment to speak with you, Heimdall."_

_"What is it you want of me, Trickster?" Heimdall asked with underlying anger._

_"It is not, I, but the Lady Sigyn who wishes to speak with you," Loki stated with a slight bow as he carefully kneeled down to allow the little girl to slide off his back. Turning his head, he smiled encouragingly at her when she remained hidden._

_The sealed doors of Himinbjorg spun open and out stepped the intimidating form of Asgard's powerful Gatekeeper clad in his majestic golden armor._

_"Come forth, young one. I will not harm you," Heimdall spoke in the gentlest tone Loki had ever heard from the formidable Gatekeeper._

_Tentatively, Sigyn walked out from behind Loki, all the while keeping a vice-like grip on his hand. She stood beside her raven-haired friend, looking up nervously toward the Golden Giant towering over her._

_Kneeling down to seem less frightening to the child, Heimdall softened his features as he gazed at the radiant little girl, delighted by her expressive sparkling violet-blue eyes and braided, bright platinum-blonde hair. Purple blossoms like clover adorned her head and were tucked into every one of the eight braids that hung down her back. Her long-sleeved, lavender silk dress was light, simple and comfortable to just above her knees. She had leggings of the same color and lavender sandals were on her feet. "You wished to speak with me, little Sigyn?"_

_"Heimdall, may Lulu and I sit on the roof of your hall?" Sigyn asked the Golden Giant respectfully, her voice clear and sweet as birdsong._

_"Lulu?" Heimdall repeated in amusement, looking with raised eyebrows at Loki who'd frozen rigid where he stood, his face flaming red. Though the Trickster remained silent, his fiery green eyes spoke volumes: 'breathe a word of this to anyone and I shall plague you with mischief for an eternity,' they seemed to say._

_Turning back to address the little girl, Heimdall said, "Why do wish to sit on the roof of my hall?"_

_"Because it's beautiful up there," little Sigyn replied. "I have a book of stories I want Lulu to read to me."_

_Loki held out a thick codex bound in purple velvet._

_"Very well, little Sigyn, you may sit on the roof of my hall, but before you do, may I make one request of you?" Heimdall asked gently. Loki fidgeted uneasily beside his young ward, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. "Would you like to see my home?"_

_"Yes, please!" Sigyn replied, her face beaming a wide, excited smile._

_"I take it this invitation doesn't extend to me," Loki remarked, crossing his arms. Sigyn immediately looked worried._

_"You are the Lady Sigyn's escort and cannot be left behind," Heimdall replied evenly, not too pleased with letting the Trickster into his home. "You are both welcome."_

_The Golden Giant stood to his full height and turned around to face the open doorway of his hall. From where they stood, Loki saw nothing except the circular dais of steps that lead to the Gate Lock, a solitary golden pedestal where Hofud, Heimdall's sword was placed, acting as the Gate Key for traveling to other Realms._

_After quick, complicated gestures with his hands and fingers - Loki only managing to see half of them - the interior of Heimdall's hall changed drastically from what most Asgardians were accustomed to seeing._

_Squeals of joyful laughter filled the transformed hall as Loki looked around, his eyes slightly widening in surprise. Rather than golden walls and empty space, the interior was cozy and filled with furniture, furs, a fireplace, paintings, sculptures and book shelves. Most startling was the hall's roof which was now the color of the sky on a sunny, spring day and even included fluffy clouds that lazily floated by, complementing the elaborate illusion. In a corner sat Gjallarhorn, an enormous golden horn that signaled the arrival of honored guests when blown softly. When blown loudly to signal impeding danger, its deep, resonant sound was heard throughout the Nine Realms._

_"This is your home?" Loki said with admiration. Smiling, he watched Sigyn spin in place as she stared in awe at her surroundings. "Careful, we mustn't touch anything." Strong magic flowed throughout every object in the hall as he warily kept his distance. "I must say, Gatekeeper, I'm impressed." He saw the Golden Giant subtly nod._

_Wandering over to give Gjallarhorn a closer inspection, Loki felt Heimdall's gaze boring into the back of his head. "Gatekeeper, I will attempt no mischief as an invited guest within your hall."_

_"You may try, Trickster, but I do not think you will enjoy the consequences," was Heimdall's smug reply, grinning when Loki muttered to himself._

_In a sweeping glance toward the hall's fireplace, Loki noticed the absence of Sigyn. Thinking that she'd wandered off to play near the bookshelves, he walked over to find her but the little girl wasn't there._

_"Where's Sigyn?" Loki said in alarm. He stretched out his senses and instantly flew into a panic when he couldn't sense her...anywhere. When Heimdall seemed unconcerned, his body crackled with a green fire of barely contained rage. "Where is she?"_

_"Calm yourself, Trickster," Heimdall sighed. He stood still for a long moment, looking outward from his hall toward the expanse of celestial stars at the edge of the Bifrost, which was framed neatly by an open, shutter-less window. "The little one has somehow brought herself to the Realm of Midgard."_

_"What? HOW?" Loki thundered._

_"It appears the Lady Sigyn has a rather interesting ability...that was accidentally amplified a thousandfold when she touched Hofud," Heimdall explained calmly._

_"You knew this was happening, yet you did nothing?" Loki yelled in outrage and distress. "Take me to her at once, Gatekeeper! You're good for that, at least!"_

_"I was unaware of what would happen to the little one," Heimdall replied flatly, offended by what Loki had implied. "I would not let harm befall the Lady Sigyn in my own home, willingly."_

_Without warning, Loki fell to his hands and knees as the air around him felt heavy and oppressively hot, the images of Heimdall's cozy hall shifting and spinning around him violently. He closed his eyes against the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him._

_"Rise, Trickster, your little friend needs you. Go to her," Heimdall called out, sheathing Hofud halfway into the pedestal Gate Lock and partly opening the doorway to Midgard._

_Groaning, Loki fought past his blurry vision and saw that the Gatekeeper's hall had returned to its familiar empty interior. Shakily, he stood to his feet and wobbled unsteadily toward the Bifrost's partly opened pathway._

_"I'll have words with you when I return, Gatekeeper," Loki griped with a frown._

_"No need. My grievance of the dancing goat with you is settled, Trickster," Heimdall declared with a sneer, pushing Hofud completely into its pedestal._

_"Wait! I'm not - " _

_Glowing shards of multicolored light erupted from the open doorway, engulfing Loki completely, his body disappearing into the bright glow of the Bifrost._

_Unprepared for the trip, Loki landed hard and skidded straight into a murky bog. Covered head to toe in sticky mud, he quickly clawed his way out, coughing and sputtering as he went, his backside aching painfully from the impact. Once his feet touched stable ground away from the squishy, disgusting brown ooze, Loki considered paying the Gatekeeper in kind for his vicious, disrespectful treatment of a Son of Odin._

Heimdall can wait. The sky is darkening. I must find Sigyn,_ Loki reasoned with himself._

_Knotting his dirty, mud-caked hair into a rough bun behind his head, Loki ran swiftly along a path through the trees, his magically enhanced senses hinting at the location of his little friend._

Praise Odin, she's unharmed but she's frightened_, Loki said to himself. _Curse it, this is my fault. Had I been watching her more closely this would never have happened!

_When he reached the end of the tree line he stopped abruptly and dove onto his stomach, flattening his body against the forest floor._

Humans! There must be hundreds of them_, Loki thought worriedly. From his adequately concealed hiding place among the piles of dead leaves, the young Trickster carefully searched the many faces of assembled humans, among them children, for a glimpse of little Sigyn._

Must be a celebration of sorts_, Loki thought with a guess. _

_Every human present was dressed in impeccable finery. The women had towering curly wigs of different colors, their bodies decorated with jewels, small hats, feathers or small animals. Their gowns were wide, ruffled, frilly and frivolous, a majority exhibiting an enticing amount of cleavage. In their hands they carried canes that when 'opened' resembled skinny, towering mushrooms which they held above their heads. The males in turn were just as finely dressed, their wigs tied with ribbons, their flowing jackets and shirts ruffled with lace, decorated with elaborate embroidery or studded with jewels. Square-cut pieces of cloth were held or dangled from almost every hand. Cosmetics were painted heavily on both men's and women's faces. As for the children, they nearly mimicked the appearances of the adults but in a more conservative fashion reflective of their tender ages._

_Behind the multitude of humans gathered was a largish structure more finely constructed than Loki remembered seeing on his last visit to Midgard with his older brother, Thor. Apparently the humans had moved past crude dwellings made from logs and sod. Earth's culture had hardly been of much interest to him, too primitive and savage by his standards based on the many journals he'd read. However, in this particular instance, he wished he'd read more recent reports to better navigate his way around._

Where are you, Petal? I know you're near. Please, don't be afraid. I'm here_, Loki implored almost desperately, hoping that Sigyn would hear his mental cry. Wanting to find her faster so they could leave the wretched world, he impulsively transformed himself into a yellow songbird, darting high into the air and circling the crowd below him. In his new, small form, he was at least able to shed his muddied clothing._

There!_ Loki thought triumphantly, sighting his little ward's familiar blossom-covered platinum-blonde braids. A very elaborately dressed young woman was carrying Sigyn in her arms, surrounded by a giggling cluster of adolescent girls._

Damn. I can't do anything until they put her down_, Loki thought irritably as he followed the gaggle of females into the sprawling, pale-painted dwelling. He knew the danger of confining himself inside a human structure but now that he'd found Sigyn, he wasn't allowing her to slip his sight._

_"Oh, regardez! Il y a un oiseau dans ici," 1 one of the adolescent girls exclaimed excitedly, gesturing with her fan to where Loki sat perched on a tall shelf._

_When Sigyn's tear-streaked face turned in the direction of where the human girl was pointing, she immediately brightened with joy and relief._

_Just as happy to have found her, Loki trilled jubilantly, ignoring the peals of captivated laughter from the humans below him._

_Unexpectedly, Sigyn whistled in a perfect imitation of Loki's birdsong, reaching her hands out to him eagerly, blissfully unaware of the stunned reactions around her. Loki sang back quickly, hoping to ease the fearful faces of the human females in the room._

_S_uch silly, superstitious creatures,_ Loki grumbled. Soon, however, fear turned into amusement as he and Sigyn sang to one another._

_The woman who carried her finally put her down, placing her on a small, oval-shaped table as they gathered around her. Freed from the stranger's grasp, Sigyn promptly climbed off the low table and ran toward the shelf where Loki sat peering down at her. As they continued singing to each other, he tried to devise the best way for the two of them to escape, but at the moment, with every human eye in the room staring at them, it turned into a difficult challenge._

_Grinning to himself, Loki was never one to back down in the face of overwhelming adversity, instead, he accepted and relished it. As he continued singing in reply to Sigyn's talented whistling, he flew from his perch and landed on another piece of furniture, wanting to lure them away from the watching group of humans._

That's a good girl, we're almost outside, _Loki thought with a smile_.

_Approaching the wide open panel doors to the expansive gardens behind the dwelling, Loki fluttered near the threshold as Sigyn followed him. _We're nearly there, little one._ He hovered briefly before darting outside...and flew straight into a finely woven net. _No!_ Cursing, Loki heard Sigyn's distressed cries as he struggled to free himself._

_The net that imprisoned him was carefully lowered to the ground, effectively pinning him in place while an attendant arrived with a golden cage. Loki thrashed wildly, refusing to be manhandled by human hands that tried to catch him. Sigyn's frantic cries continued as she was held back by the woman that had carried her earlier._

_He tried pecking at the servant whose fingers got too close, angering the boy, who then roughly gathered the portion of netting that enclosed him, stuffing him quickly inside the cage. It was a clever maneuver, the boy-servant grinning proudly as he cut away the excess netting with a sharp knife._

_"Là vous allez, peu un. Maintenant vous pouvez avoir votre nouvel ami près et vous pouvez chanter l'un à l'autre chaque fois que vous aimez," 2 the woman who carried Sigyn cooed mollifyingly. She then signaled a servant to bring Loki's cage back inside the dwelling and toward the table._

_Untangling himself from the piece of fine netting left in his cage, Loki hopped up to the topmost perch inside it. From outside the thin bars he saw Sigyn stretching out her body trying to reach for him. The woman who carried her obliged with an impatient smile and placed her on the table._

_"Enfants. De telles petites bêtes demandantes, n'est-ce pas?" 3 a woman dressed in the most elaborate gown exclaimed as the young women laughed around her._

_Sigyn crept closer to Loki's cage and sat beside it, leaning her little forehead against the thin, gilded bars, her bright violet-blue eyes staring straight at him with a sad expression._

_Sidestepping on his perch till he reached his little friend, Loki sat himself down next to her with scarcely a millimeter of space to spare. Fluffing his feathers with a sigh, he turned his head and looked back at her, chirping softy to comfort her._

_"L'enfant est une sorcière!" 4 an elderly maidservant said in fright when she entered the room._

_"Recevez cette femme d'ici!" 5 the woman with the elaborate blue gown barked imperiously, obviously the female of authority in the dwelling. The elderly maidservant was quickly ushered out of the room. "Paysans stupides." 6_

_Composing herself, the elaborately dressed young woman neared the table where Sigyn sat, who was staring mournfully at the birdcage._

_"Eh bien, peu un. Permettez-nous de trouver vos parents," 7 the young woman of authority crooned tolerantly and tried to lift the little girl from where she sat._

_Sigyn whimpered and shook her head slowly, her little fingers gripping the bars of the birdcage so tightly that when the woman tugged, the cage went with her. As the woman continued to pull her away, Loki chirped madly in loud protest against it and when anyone approached to pry Sigyn's fingers free from her strong grip on the cage, Loki pecked relentlessly at them._

_Exasperated, the woman of authority let Sigyn go but her little fingers remained wrapped around the thin bars. Loki feared she might hurt herself from how strongly she held on._

_"Parfait. Séjour ici alors. J'ai des invités pour m'occuper," 8 the woman of authority said in a huff, signaling for her entourage of adolescent women to follow her._

_Loki heard the swish of heavy fabric as the human females departed the room, the boy-servant who'd caught him remaining behind to watch them. He chirped soothingly as he nuzzled Sigyn's pale fingers with his feathery head hoping she'd calm herself enough to loosen them._

We're in quite a mess, aren't we, Petal?_ Loki sighed, looking around the room. He didn't like the way the boy-servant was staring at them. _How do we free ourselves from this place now?

_As Loki tried to devise another plan of escape, a beautiful, bejeweled woman in a green and gold gown with long, wavy sun-kissed hair entered (more like danced) into the room. The boy-servant in attendance was immediately smitten and stood absolutely still as she bent over to whisper in his ear, kisseing him gently on the forehead, magically putting him to sleep. Another maiden appeared in a formfitting red gown, her long, black hair artfully twirled and decorated with shiny red ribbons._

Freya! Sif!_ Loki twittered and fluttered happily in his golden cage just as Freya scooped Sigyn up into her arms, embracing her tightly._

_"You've had an interesting adventure today, haven't you?" Freya said warmly to her fosterling sister. "I wish to hear all about it when we return home," she added, looking pointedly at Loki who'd dipped his feathered head apologetically. "Come, let us hasten back to the others."_

Others?_ Loki thought in surprise, chirping sharply when Sif gripped him too tightly as she reached into the cage to take him. The young warrior maiden grinned as she brought him close to her face, just shy of pecking distance._

_"You're in a world of trouble, brat," Sif said ominously, expecting Loki's angry reaction. When he did nothing, her eyebrows rose in surprise._

_Under normal circumstances, Loki would have given Sif a sharp tongue-lashing - or in his present form a series of ear-piercing screeches - but today he chose to remain quiet. He knew he was at fault. His inattentiveness had placed Sigyn in great danger and he resolved to humbly accept the punishment for his failing._

_The four of them slipped out of the large dwelling, walking casually through the gathered throng of frolicking humans, visible yet invisible as they passed without incident except for the occasional polite greeting. There was no doubt that Freya's magic had a hand in it._

_"You look good in a dress. My eyes are honored to see you in one," Thor teased happily, sidling up to Sif from the fringes of the crowd. Like Sif and Freya, he wore a full costume that blended well with the other fashionable humans. "Where's Loki?"_

_"Here, take him," Sif said with a frown and took Thor's right hand, roughly shoving a little yellow songbird into his palm which trilled loudly in distress. She then gathered up her skirts uncomfortably, stomping a few steps ahead._

_"Loki?" Thor addressed the pitiful-looking bird in his cupped palms with uncertainty. The bird stared at him and chirped weakly, then tipped over in his hands. Alarmed and cradling the mangled-looking songbird as gently as he could, _he caught up to Freya, _stretching out his arms beside her. "What's the matter with Loki? Is he hurt?"_

_"Oh, my," Freya replied worriedly and shook her head. She tried to explain to Thor in terms he could grasp as she quickened her pace. "Your brother has recklessly attempted a magical transformation without properly attuning himself to this world's energies. Very dangerous and potentially fatal." When Thor and Sigyn gasped, Freya sent them a warm, reassuring smile. "Loki will be fine." She then looked at Thor. "Once we reach the Bifrost marker I must first help your brother return to his proper shape. He can't travel that way."_

_Freya smiled when Thor ran faster, taking long, even strides ahead of her._

_Once the entire rescue party arrived at the circular runic marker located deep into the forest and away from prying human eyes, Freya passed Sigyn into Sif's waiting arms. She then turned to Thor who gave her the songbird he held as gently as he could into her palms._

_"Are you ready, Loki? This will hurt," Freya warned him. At his weak chirp of acknowledgment, she bent her lips close and blew on him gently._

_Everyone watched in fascination as the yellow songbird in Freya's hands began convulsing and tossing wildly, Loki's body expanding and reconstructing itself from the inside out. She lowered her hands to the ground, silently observing as Loki's body mass grew to a more familiar size, his yellow feathers falling away and leaving bare, smooth skin. Also, Loki appeared to be screaming but Freya's magic had blotted out all sound. When the ordeal of his transformation was done, Loki lay naked and unconscious. Quickly conjuring a soft cloak, Freya, with Thor's help, swaddled Loki within it._

_"Heimdall, we are ready," Freya called softly, cradling Loki's slender, sleeping form on her lap. She caressed his pale cheek gently, sighing as she gazed at Loki's slack features just before the glow of the Bifrost swept them away._

_It was some time later in Asgard when Loki stirred from his unconscious state._

_"Welcome back, Brother," Thor said with a wide smile as he sat cross-legged on the bed nearby._

_"Nnngh...even the roots of my hair hurt," Loki groaned weakly._

_"That's because I'm sitting on you," Thor declared proudly as he peered at his younger brother from above his head. "Your lovely hair makes a fine nest for me to rest in."_

_"As always, Brother, you graciousness astounds me," Loki replied dryly, returning his brother's gaze which was upside down as he hovered above him. "How long was I..?"_

_"Three days," Thor said, his voice more serious. "Little Sigyn refused to leave your bedside." He reached over and stroked the little girl's curly, platinum-blonde head as she slept._

_Turning his head slowly to the left, Loki fondly regarded Sigyn's adorably peaceful sleeping face beside him. She was tethered to him by a strand of his hair, her little fingers purposefully tangled in them. Staring at her pensively, he became visibly upset as tears filled his eyes when he remembered the danger his negligence had brought her._

_"What troubles you, Brother?" Thor asked with concern._

_"I...I was so stupid...I should have been watching her more closely...it was only a moment that I looked away..." Loki's throat choked back a sob._

_"Why do you weep? Sigyn is here, safe and sleeping beside you," Thor remarked, bounding off from _the bed _where he sat on his brother's hair so that he could look him in the eyes, right-side up. Crossing his arms, his mouth formed a lopsided smile as he shook his blond head. "You're overreacting."_

_"By Gungnir's Aim, I could have killed her!" Loki hissed sharply, ignoring the pain that the sudden movement of his head caused. "Imagine yourself at her tender age, alone, lost in Midgard and surrounded by a multitude of strange human faces! What those animals could have done to her..." _

_He bit back his anger fearing he'd wake her._

_Thor remained silent, allowing his brother to ramble, knowing that he'd never get a word in while Loki was in a snit._

_"Ah! Praise the Nine Waves you're awake," Frigga exclaimed when she stepped into her gentle son's bedchamber. Reaching Loki's bedside, a glimpse of his face sent her brow furrowing. "What has happened?" She feared her sons were in the midst of another of their violent arguments._

_Her eldest simply rolled his eyes. "Loki's in one of his moods again. I swear, he acts more like a sister to me than a brother sometimes." His mother sent him a withering look. Scratching his head, he sighed and said, "He's in the throes of remorse for what happened to Sigyn."_

_Sitting by the edge of the bed, Frigga cupped her hands on either side of Loki's fair face, forcing him to meet her gaze. When renewed tears flowed down his cheeks, she bent down to kiss him on the forehead. "There, there, my son. There is no more need to fret. All is well."_

_"I deserve...whatever punishment is fitting," Loki whispered between hitched breaths. "I'm quite sure...Sigyn's family is...very displeased with me right now."_

_"Hush," Frigga admonished tenderly, carefully gathering her son's tangled raven hair and combing her fingers through them. She glanced affectionately at little Sigyn who slept peacefully nearby, curled into a ball around a strand of Loki's long hair. "She's so tired. She hasn't left your side since that night, did you know that?"_

_Surprised, Loki gazed at the little girl beside him. "What she must think of me," he whispered._

_"She loves you dearly. It frightened her that you wouldn't wake when she shook you. She shook you hard," Frigga recalled, smiling at the memory._

_"Yes, she would have," Loki whispered with a small smile._

_"Mother, excuse me for a moment," Thor said, who'd stood quietly to one side listening to their conversation. He walked away briskly then sprinted out of the bedchamber._

_"What's Thor doing now?" Loki observed wearily, frowning slightly._

_"Your brother hasn't left your side, either," Frigga replied with a knowing look._

_"He was sitting on my hair," Loki answered irritably and his mother laughed._

_When Thor returned, he was pulling along a reluctant Sif who clearly wasn't pleased to be present. "Loki, Sif would like to tell you something." He then guided her closer to his younger brother's bedside._

_Curious, Loki turned his gaze on Sif, who had some difficulty meeting his. "What is it that you wish to tell me?" he asked mildly._

_Seeing how weak and helpless he looked, Sif bit her lip and fidgeted nervously._

_"I'm...I'm here to ask for your forgiveness," she whispered._

_Confused, Loki said, "Forgivness for what, Sif? You've done me no wrong."_

_"Yes, I have," Sif replied, nodding her head slowly. "When...you were in the form a yellow songbird...I may have...injured you during your rescue."_

_"Injured...?" Loki replied in confusion, recalling the events of that fearful night when Sif and Freya had appeared in Midgard to free them. "Oh. Was it when you held me so tightly in your hand that I couldn't breathe?" There was no anger in his tone._

_"I'm sorry," Sif said as she went down on one knee with her head bowed and remained there. _

_Loki smiled. She seemd genuinely apologetic and he felt no need to prolong her contrition despite his temptation to do so._

_"You're forgiven, Sif. Please, rise," Loki said. When she did, she was visibly relieved, sheepishly glancing at his mother._

_"There you go! That wasn't so bad, was it?" Thor replied happily, grabbing Sif in a headlock while both Loki and his mother genially laughed at their antics._

_Turning to glance at her gentle son, Frigga saw the uniquely tender gaze that Loki held only for Sigyn, but there was a hidden sadness to her smile._

* * *

><p>Loki tossed his head as he slept, unaware that he mumbled words in the Aesir dialect. He was dreaming of the life he'd once had in the Realm of Asgard but the images were centered on someone in particular. Someone he hadn't thought about in a very long time.<p>

"...Sigyn..."

His fitful sleep continued well into the night, his body emitting a strangely faint, greenish glow.

* * *

><p>"Rise and shine, Boss Divine," Darcy Lewis called out, shaking Jane roughly on the shoulder.<p>

"Mmmhmm. Few more minutes," Jane mumbled sluggishly.

"I'm. Not. Your. Mommy," Darcy said, emphasizing each word with a hard poke to Jane's ribs. "Wakey! I wanna go shopey!"

"Shopping...for what?" Jane said, rubbing her eyes.

"Cocktail gowns, lingerie, I don't fucking know. Whatever the hell it is you wear to a dinner hosted by Tony Stark."

Jane's eyes popped open. She looked around frantically, suddenly remembering where she was. "Holy shit. We're not in New Mexico anymore!"

"You know, Dorothy, I really doubt that bed back in your trailer's _that_ comfortable," Darcy said with a smirk. "Seriously, Toto says, get the fuck up. It's like almost noon."

Yawning widely, Jane glanced around and as if on cue, the LCD screen in her room sprang to life, displaying the time and weather in large, digital numbers.

"Thanks, Jarv," Darcy called out with a grin. She'd been up for almost two hours and spent most of that time chatting with the supercomputer in Stark's basement.

"Jarv?" Jane said in disbelief.

"You know, the really cool A.I. dude downstairs in the Bat Cave. We've been hanging out since I woke up. Did you know that Jarvis can turn into a giant Playstation?"

Climbing out of bed, Jane ambled over to her en-suite bathroom. Darcy leaned against the threshold of the door.

"Where's Stark?" Jane asked as she examined her morning face in the mirror.

"He flew out to a meeting. His two EA's picked him up just after I woke up."

"Two? I thought he only had the one."

"Technically, yeah. Officially, it's the blonde woman, Pepper Potts. She was intimidating at first but she's pretty cool once we got talking," Darcy supplied. "Not too sure about the redhead though. I think her name was Natalie Rush...more...Rush...man. Anyway, that one screamed Dragon Bitch."

"Okay, lemme get showered and dressed so we can go shopping," Jane said. "Dunno about you, but I'm starving."

"I can eat. I've just been snacking," Darcy replied, turning to leave.

"Wait! I totally forgot, we don't have a car," Jane lamented.

"We're rockin' in _that_ department," Darcy said with an excited grin. "Tony said we could use whichever car in the basement we're brave enough to drive."

Whirling to face her friend and colleague, Jane's mouth hung open. "Are you _serious_? He gave us permission to drive his collection of exotic sports cars?"

"Yup," Darcy said with a grin, a loud pop to her 'P.'

Grinning impishly, Jane replied, "I better hurry getting ready then."

* * *

><p>Loki's eyes drifted open and he looked around the dimness of his surroundings, momentarily disoriented. The furniture in his bedchamber was crude and dull, and it took a full minute for him to realize where he was.<p>

"Oh...I'm on Earth," he mumbled disappointedly, staring at the light fixture on the roof of his bedchamber. _At least my accommodations have improved._ The female's dwelling had been so cramped and miserable compared to where he was now. _So it begins._ He wasn't the least bit enthusiastic about living his life as a _mortal_ _human_...

Of the many planets in the Realm of Midgard, why was he exiled to Earth? Why wasn't he stranded with the Kree or plodding the Shi'ar Empire? Odin's Eye! He would've even settled for wandering the stars with the detestably _dull_ Galactus!

_I wonder if that pedantic Living Tribunal has anything to do with my current quandary, _Loki thought angrily. _In my present form, however...I've now been made...ordinary. Irrelevant._ His anger turned to sadness. _There's no use for further thoughts on the matter._

Moving his fingers reflexively before he could stop himself, Loki realized that the digits of his left hand seemed _whole_. He felt less pain from them and some strength had returned. Raising his left arm, he examined his fingers that were bound tightly in a single, formfitting splint.

Before he was tempted to free his bandaged fingers with his teeth, he heard footsteps approaching his door. _That must be the female._

True to his prediction, Bryn entered the bedchamber with a bright smile.

"Hey, you. Figured you'd be awake," she greeted, walking straight to the curtains of his windows. "Sunshine coming up. You might wanna look the other way."

The instant Loki turned his head, his bedchamber was flooded with bright light. He was grateful that this time, Bryn had given him some warning.

"You feeling hungry?"

"Not at the moment," Loki replied. "Would you help me sit up?"

"Sure." Bryn walked over and eased him upright. "You're looking a _lot_ better today." Her eyes scanned his body's injures with interest. "It's amazing how fast you're healing."

"Am I?" Loki said skeptically. His human body's rate of healing was immensely slow compared to his Asgardian form. "I rather doubt that."

"Hey, I was studying to become a doctor, remember? It takes months to heal broken bones. You're doing it in _weeks_," Bryn pointed out. "I almost called the Guinness Book of World Records on you."

"Are you implying that I'm not considered...ordinary?"

"You? 'Ordinary?' Maybe in your hometown. Don't know what they feed you in Iceland but you're not exactly what I call an average guy," Bryn replied. '_Freak' would be a better word. I'm not saying that to your face though._ She noticed that Adam was somehow pleased with the idea of being...abnormal. _Peachy_. "So, what do wanna do?"

"Presently, I dearly crave a bath," Loki replied eagerly.

"We can do that," Bryn said. "It'll give me the chance to change your bandages anyway. I'll go run the water."

Before she entered the en-suite bathroom, the female took out the pitcher of 'lemonade' from the night-stand table and poured him a fresh glass.

"Don't think you'll be needing that straw for much longer," Bryn remarked with a smile. She returned the pitcher then left for the bathroom.

Discovering that he wasn't entirely 'ordinary' in his human body gave Loki a sliver of hope. Perhaps the terms of his exile were conditional upon irrefutable proof of his 'good behavior.' If that was true, he had a _very_ long road ahead of him.

"Hello, there," Mars greeted as he walked in cautiously.

"Hello, Marius."

"Just call me, Mars. I insist. We're all friends here. Besides, unless you have any objection to it, we've decided to officially adopt you," Mars said proudly. When Adam's brows furrowed in confusion, he reworded. "What I meant was that you're welcome to stay here with us indefinitely."

"That is...most generous of you and Alvis. I...don't know what to say...other than...I am sincerely grateful," Loki replied, taken aback by his immediate acceptance from the humans. Also, had he _wanted_ to stay with them? In truth, he had nowhere else to go. His goal was to find Thor's human female, Jane...but where to start looking?

_I only know the woman's first name. It will be exceedingly difficult for me to find her without more information. I'd best stay here and learn all I can._

"Hey, Mars," Bryn greeted as she emerged from Adam's bathroom en-suite.

"What're we up to today?" Mars asked with a smile.

"Adam says he's strong enough for a soak in the tub. I think it's a good idea."

Loki looked toward Mars curiously, a question foremost on his mind.

"Mars, last night...I heard music on a piano," Loki remarked. "Who was playing it?"

"That would be me," Mars said shyly. "I hope I wasn't too loud."

"No, no. I'm...grateful that you played. The song was soothing. You play well," Loki complimented.

Blushing slightly, Mars fidgeted bashfully. "Thank you. That's really sweet of you to say. I haven't played in a while since this place got renovated. Had to put my poor baby into storage."

'_Baby?' What's the relevancy of an infant here?_

Bryn noted Adam's confused expression. He seemed to be doing that a lot.

"Mars here's being too modest. If he didn't go Vegas, he would've been a classical concert pianist. He's a kind of prodigy," Bryn grinned.

"Don't listen to her, it's just a hobby," Mars denied humbly. "Anyway, I hear water running. You need help taking him in there?"

"You strong enough to stand?" Bryn asked her unusual patient.

"I think so," Loki replied, slowly sliding off the bed and onto his feet. When he tried to stand, he wobbled unsteadily.

"That would be a no," Bryn said as she and Mars darted to assist him.

The three of them hobbled to the en-suite bathroom where a dark, rectangular tub was set three steps above the main stoned floor against large, mildly tinted panel windows. The overall design of Adam's en-suite was modern, minimalist and masculine. Dark stone with thin veins of white and silver ran from the floor to the walls, a tempered glass shower stall was in a corner beside the vanity table and in the middle of the room was a soft, shaggy rug. All the fixtures were simple, clean, geometric and angled. There was the smell of sandalwood from the bubble bath solution.

They sat him carefully on the edge of the tub, Loki staring curiously at the frothy mass that covered the churning water of his bath. The bubbling noise sounded similar to what he'd heard when he'd stayed at the female's tiny dwelling, except not as loudly.

"Would you kindly remove these splints? I prefer to bathe without them," Loki requested, nodding toward his right shoulder and holding out his left arm.

"It's too soon for your hand but I can do your shoulder," Bryn advised.

"I'll be fine. Please?" Loki asked, softening his features.

_Does he have any idea what that face can do?_ Bryn grumbled to herself. "Fine, Superman. Why not?" She reluctantly walked over to him and tugged on the bandages that secured his shoulder in place.

"Here, just cut the lot," Mars suggested, handing Bryn a pair of scissors.

Loki waited patiently while Bryn freed him of the bandages around his shoulder.

"He still looks bruised though," Mars commented.

Last night, when the three of them seriously discussed Adam's fate, Mars agreed with Bryn's assessment that their new guest was a certifiable Freak Of Nature...and an amazingly _hot_ one! Also, the guy had impeccable posture as he sat elegantly on the tub's edge like a professional ballet dancer. Moving off to one side, Mars gathered up the discarded bandages and placed them in the trash.

"Okay, how's your shoulder feel?" Bryn asked, carefully tracing the line of his collar bone with her fingers. _Nothing bent out of shape, that's good._

Gingerly rotating his shoulder, Loki tested to see how much movement he was allowed. He winced when it stung as he tried to lift his arm higher.

"Don't push it or you'll re-break it," Bryn warned. "I need to figure out how to get you x-rayed. Don't wanna take any chances."

"Alvi's taking care of that," Mars replied. "He knows someone who can get Adam here some, uh, permanent identification."

"Really? I didn't know Alvi was so James Bond," Bryn laughed.

"I wonder about him sometimes, y'know? Even after a decade living with him, that man can still shock the living shit out of me," Mars chuckled.

"You complain a lot about it, but I know you love his whole Man of Mystery thing," Bryn replied with a grin.

"Too true, too true," Mars agreed with a coy smile.

Listening to their conversation, Loki found their use of words entertaining even if he only understood a quarter of what they spoke about. He had to find a way to remedy that. They began to notice how often he stared at them in bewilderment.

When Bryn released the fingers of his left hand from the form-fitted splint, Loki slowly moved each digit. His joints ached and stung like his shoulder but the pain was manageable.

"Like your shoulder, I don't advise lifting anything with those fingers yet," Bryn said, inspecting the bruised, torn flesh of his hand. _What a shame, that's probably gonna scar._ She recalled images of Adam's berserker episode in her basement apartment and it made her shudder, her fingers absently scratching at the healing wounds on her arms under her long-sleeved shirt.

Turning toward the inviting water in his tub, Loki wiggled out of his pajama bottoms as he sat on the edge, glancing at Bryn and Mars who both quickly turned around.

"Okay, I'm outta here," Bryn said briskly, walking out of the bathroom before either of the men saw her blush.

Mars remained behind in case Adam needed assistance, taking a deep, meditative breath before he gamely turned around. He bit his lip when he saw the perfectly sculpted flesh that was Adam's rear profile as the gorgeous man twisted away from him, testing the temperature of the water. _I'm going to faint!_ Clearing his throat and praying his face wasn't embarrassingly flushed, Mars wrung his hands nervously as he stepped closer to the tub. "Need any help?" His voice sounded squeaky.

"Perhaps a little, getting in?" Loki said, not trusting his still weakened body to properly support him. When he reached out to take Mars's hand he saw that the man was trembling. "Are you well?"

"Hmnh?" Mars asked, a little too sharply. "What do you mean?"

"You're shaking," Loki observed.

_Oh, Dear God._ "I'm fine. I just don't want to break you," Mars lied smoothly as he assisted Adam into the tub. _Don't look, Mars, for fucks sake, don't look!_

Once inside the frothy liquid, the hot, bubbling water felt glorious as it splashed and lapped against his naked body. Loki smiled and released a (sexy) moan of contentment as he leaned back into the comfortable seat molded inside the tub, closing his eyes.

Mars quickly stumbled out of the en-suite bathroom, his skin and lower extremities felt like they were on fire. _Bastard just _had_ to make that sound,_ he mentally muttered as he hastily beelined for the master bedroom and straight into a cold shower.

* * *

><p>"I <em>love<em> this car!" Jane Foster screamed into the wind with glee. Her friend Darcy sat beside her in the passenger's seat grinning like a madwoman and holding on for dear life. The wind buffeted their hair as they sped along Pacific Coast Hwy. 1 toward Santa Monica.

"Jane, you're a maniac!" Darcy laughed as she danced in her seat to the music blaring loudly from the Audi R8 Spyder's custom speakers. Nothing spikes adrenaline levels like a super-fast exotic topdown, good tunes, a roaring engine and a crazy driver.

A blinking prompt on the dashboard's Navi read 'incoming call' as Darcy shrugged and pressed the on-screen's virtual button.

"Hello, ladies, having fun?" Stark's grinning face showed up on the monitor.

The R8 swerved dangerously into the opposite lane, Jane startled by the unexpected appearance of the car's owner.

"Mr. Stark!" Jane exclaimed in surprise.

"_Tony_."

"Uh..."

"Like your ride?"

"Yes! Yes, this car's amazing," Jane replied, slightly flushed.

"Not too much for you to handle, I hope?" Stark goaded.

"This thing? Purrs like a kitten," Jane answered, rising to the challenge. "Don't worry, I'll bring it back in one piece."

"Do whatever you want to it. It's on the house," Stark grinned. "Hold on a sec," He moved off-camera for a moment. "Sorry, ladies, gotta go, business calls. Feel free to use the credit card in the glove box. You girls have a blast." Winking, he blipped off the Navi monitor.

The two women looked at each other briefly with stunned expressions before Darcy dove into the car's glove box and pulled out a red and gold envelope addressed to Jane. When Darcy opened the envelope, there was a folded square-shaped greeting card. Inside the greeting card was a completely black carbon fiber credit card with a bluish-silver sheen on both sides.

"Fuck. Me. Sideways," Darcy blurted before she could stop herself. "Jane," her voice in a higher octave as she held the card in her hand like a precious relic. "This is like...the Holy Grail of credit cards."

"Lemme see that," Jane said, snatching the card from Darcy to examine it while trying to mind the road. Her eyes widened when she recognized what she held from pictures posted on Forbes dot com. "No way..."

They exchanged loaded glances as the smiles broadened on their faces.

"Let's go spend some money," Darcy said diabolically.

* * *

><p>Almost drifting off to sleep, Loki opened his eyes as he sat relaxed and contented inside the bubbling water of his bath. Glancing at his surroundings, he found the bathing room's adornments comfortable and pleasant, the large windows providing a generous amount of sunshine. Perhaps among the humans, Alvis and Marius were men of some wealth and status which benefitted him perfectly. He'd rather spend his days adjusting to his human body in relative comfort.<p>

To his right, placed in a line on the ledge of his tub by the panel windows were three large bottles. He read the words in big, bold letters: 'Shampoo', 'Conditioner' and 'Body Wash.' Picking up each of the bottles, he read the smaller words imprinted on them. Much of what was written was nonsense to him but he recognized some of the herbs, fruits and vegetables listed under 'ingredients.' Much of his knowledge on herbs and plants was taught to him by Frigga and Freya or gleaned from Eir the Healer, who kept the most extensive collection of flora in Asgard - a golden hoard he'd occasionally 'borrowed' from whenever he needed something in particular.

_Why are there two different potions to for hair? Wouldn't it be more efficient to simply have one?_

Shaking his head, he slowly lifted himself to his knees and using his left forearm, partially pressed down on the Shampoo bottle's spout that instructed him to 'push.' Out poured a thick, clear liquid that smelled of stronger sandalwood that pooled in his right palm. Dipping his head so he wouldn't have to lift his right arm, he lathered the substance into his hair. He did it slowly, the fingers of his left hand aching painfully while he struggled with the strain on his right shoulder. Frustrated, he stopped momentarily to ease the throbbing that made him wince.

There was a soft knock to the open door of his bathing room. Oddly enough, the female, Brynhild had a delightful talent for timely appearances.

"Yes, I require your assistance," Loki replied before she could ask.

"Um...you read minds too?" Bryn said warily, hesitating at the door.

"Not...to my knowledge," Loki answered haltingly.

_Although, that ability would be of great use to me._

"Figured you might need help with your hair," Bryn said with a shrug as she entered the bathroom.

She'd originally went to find Mars, asking him to check up on Adam but after he'd left in a hurry earlier, he'd politely refused further contact with their guest for the rest of the day. She suspected that Adam had no sense of modesty, probably something cultural from his part of the world, and may have done something 'inappropriate' that went beyond what even Mars could handle. Not that Mars had anything against nudity, but he obviously had a major crush on Adam and he'd rather avoid embarrassment.

Concerning herself, as long as Adam stayed under the thick bubbles, she'd have no problems either. She _wasn't_ blind. For a man, Adam was an _ideal_ fucking work of art! His body was perfectly muscled and proportioned, his face handsome and expressive. He even had an immaculate English accent (for a native of Iceland) in the smoothest, most well-enunciated speaking voice she'd ever heard in her life! Then there were his other (bonus) characteristics like super-soft skin, impossibly silky hair and Hollywood hairless. In other words, yeah, the guy was _totally_ _fucking_ _hot_...and, just her luck, probably gay. Knowing her poor track record with men, there was a high possibility. Whatever.

Bryn fished an elastic tucked in the low waistband of her gray Yoga pants, tying her hair in a loose ponytail at the top of her head. She tugged briefly at her white spaghetti strap tee which had a tendency to ride up her waist. Glancing at the clock on the vanity, she had time to do some Yoga before her stage performance downstairs.

"Can you scoot over here for me?" Bryn suggested, walking to the dark tub and kneeling on the top step opposite the bath products.

Using his legs to maneuver himself to the female, Loki leaned against the side of the tub with his back to her, his head within easy reach. Brynhild's fingers were strong and soothing as they glided over his skull in steady, even circles. Having his head scrubbed in this manner made him feel like a child again.

Staring pensively at the bubbling water, Loki remembered the echoing fits of innocent, joyous laughter as he and Thor, both very energetic toddlers, splashed about rambunctiously in the mineral hot springs of Fensalir, their mother's hall. Frigga had long since given up trying to catch them and sat to one side patiently, smiling tenderly as she watched them play. It was a warm and happy memory that brought tears to his eyes.

Frigga had known from the beginning _what_ he was...and yet she'd _loved_ him just as dearly, just as fiercely as her own flesh and blood: her first-born, his older brother Thor. Although he didn't have the same relationship that Thor shared with the All-Father, he had always been very fond of Frigga and she of him.

_I miss you, Mother, and I hope that you're well. Please, forgive me. I may never see you again_, Loki thought solemnly as he swallowed back the rising lump in his throat.

"All done," Bryn announced, effectively breaking the spell of sadness that had veiled over him. "Lemme give you a rinse."

Turning his head slightly, Loki watched Brynhild from the periphery of his vision as she fiddled with the metal attachments of his tub, checking the temperature of the flowing water with her fingers. When she was satisfied, she pulled the top half of the main spout free with a soft click, the flowing water continuing uninterrupted.

_A sensible invention_, Loki thought absently, moving away from the side of the tub and tipping his head back when Brynhild began rinsing his hair. Closing his eyes, he surrendered to the simple pleasure of being washed.

_This is nice_, Bryn thought as she carefully rinsed away the last of the shampoo and taking a little longer than necessary. She'd never bathed anyone before, least of all a full-grown man and she glanced at the conditioner bottle just before she finished. "You probably don't need any conditioner, your hair's super-soft already...but do want some anyway?" _What am I doing?_

"If it means that I get more of your wonderful fingers kneading my head, then certainly do so," Loki answered, wishing to remain distracted from the dark thoughts encroaching on him. When Brynhild hesitated, his lips drew up in a coltish little smile as he sensed her ruse. The female had enjoyed bathing him and wanted to prolong her actions. Since he'd felt the same way, he permitted it.

With Adam's back turned, Bryn had the freedom to blush. Hot Guy had just given her a compliment and she didn't stop the flattered smile that erupted on her face. Reattaching the faucet fixture, she reached for the Conditioner bottle and squeezed a generous dollop of the stuff onto her palm, determined to pay Adam back with the best head massage she could muster. _ I knew those Reflexology classes would come in handy,_ Bryn grinned proudly to herself.

* * *

><p>"I dunno, Darcy, it's a bit expensive, I think," Jane said, staring at the price tag of a designer dress in the women's section of Bloomingdales inside the Santa Monica Place Shopping Center.<p>

"The guy's loaded, Jay-Jay. I don't think he'll mind," Darcy insisted.

"It's a twelve-hundred dollar _dress_," Jane said, glaring at her friend. She balked at the impracticality of it. Granted, the dress was gorgeous, comfortable and it made her look like a movie star walking the red carpet but she wasn't comfortable abusing Stark's generosity. "I know he's a gazillionaire, Dare...I just don't know."

"Well, I want _mine_. Besides, I've seen the way Stark looks at you. When he sees you in _that_ thing, it'll seal the deal," Darcy replied with a wide grin. Knowing Jane had the chance for a relationship that was happening _now_ and located _here_ on planet Earth, she couldn't resist pushing the idea of her with Stark. The guy was funny, playful, on the same intellectual wavelength as Jane, mega-rich and sending her clear signals. Well, Jane currently hadn't noticed those signals but _she_ definitely did. _Sorry, Thor. You ain't here._

"What look? Stark gave me a _look_?" Jane asked, confused. "When?"

"Last night, _genius_," Darcy said, rolling her eyes. "He's like totally into you." She watched as Jane seemed thoughtful for a minute, then she shook her head, her face serious.

"I'm not giving up on Thor until I know for _sure_ that he's given up on me," Jane said stubbornly.

_Shit. Now I've done it._ "Jane...I know Thor promised you he'd come back...but we haven't heard from him in months," Darcy argued softly. "He's not even human, Jay-Jay."

"I'm not listening to this," Jane frowned, walking away in a huff.

Darcy hated herself right now. She knew that whatever Jane felt for Thor was _real_. Anyway, wasn't Jane supposed to be the practical one here? Cursing, she quickly chased after her. "Jane! Listen, I'm sorry. Forget whatever the hell I said. I know you love Thor but you've just been so miserable lately, I guess I wasn't thinking straight. I just worry about you. Okay?"

Stopping her angry strides, Jane took a deep breath and turned around. There were tears in her eyes and her lips were quivering.

"What's _wrong_ with me, Darcy...am I being stupid?" Jane said, her voice wavering. "I can't help it...I wish I could...but I've never felt like this before." Tears flowed down her cheeks. "I miss Thor."

_Fucking hell, she's having a nervous breakdown in the middle of Bloomingdales,_ Darcy thought in dismay, going straight to Jane and hugging her tightly. "Come on, let's go someplace quiet and get you cleaned up."

Looking around, Darcy saw a sign that pointed them to the nearest women's public restroom. Rubbing her sobbing friend's shoulders consolingly, she began walking in that direction, ignoring the curious stares of strangers around them.

* * *

><p><em>Mmm...that feels good,<em> Loki admitted to himself. The human female's fingers were more talented than he anticipated. Leaning back contentedly, he felt completely relaxed and if not for his arms that were spread along the ledge of the tub or his legs that were propped to keep him upright, he would've easily slid under the bubbling water.

He wasn't adverse to being pampered - most Asgardians were in excess of it - but he had only ever indulged himself for his visiting Alfar playmates during a period in his life when he wore his hair in the Alfar fashion: ridiculously long, especially for an Asgardian male. The Alfar were notorious for latching onto anything aesthetically pleasing and he entertained their flattery. He remembered their disappointment when he'd decided to cut his hair short and noted that his Alfar playmates' visits lessened in frequency over time. It was just as well. He'd grown tired of them and their superficial doting.

_Oh...oh...I like that..._

The female's fingers had applied more pressure and were drifting lower to the back of his neck. His Asgardian body rarely ached unless he'd been injured in battle or after prolonged physical exertion during training or sex, so there wasn't any real need for massage as a necessity, rather, it was more of a luxury. In his present human form, however, he found that his mortal body with its _diminished_ resilience - requiring him to do more maintenance in general - responded surprisingly _beyond_ his usual sensitivity. It was an intriguing observation and one that required further study...some other time...

Loki's velvety moans of satisfaction made Bryn gape and blush, her fingers almost stopping in their tracks.

_So _that's_ what got Mars all worked up,_ Bryn thought as she bit her lip. _This guy sounds like a porn star!_

"You, uh, doing okay there, Adam?"

"...hmnh?" Loki responded distractedly, his eyes half-open.

"I'm ready to rinse you off now," Bryn replied from behind him.

"No need," Loki drawled lazily and slowly sunk down into the tub.

Peering at the churning water with some concern, Bryn was tempted to haul Adam up when he stayed submerged far longer than she would've liked. _It's like I caught a merman and he's living in my bathtub_, Bryn thought with a laugh. Adam's jet black hair was splayed out and floated just above the surface of the swirling water. _How long's he gonna stay under there? _When Adam finally surfaced, his hair covered his face completely like a miniature Cousin It from The Addams Family.

Loki parted the hair from his face and caught Brynhild smiling at him. She then stood up and took some clean, dry towels, placing them within easy reach near the tub.

"I've got work to do. You gonna be fine by yourself for a while?"

"Where do you...work?" Loki said curiously.

"Downstairs, ground floor. Alvi and Mars own a club."

"What...kind of...club?"

"Just your basic adult bar. It's got a great dance floor too," Bryn replied generally. She wasn't ready to go into too much detail about her line of work yet. Most men acted weird after they found out what she did. Also, she wasn't exactly a 'stripper.' Her stage performances were more artistic than just a full-on naked slut-fest; her routines carefully choreographed and costumed by Mars's bottomless creativity. Many of their patrons even suggested that Mars should've ran off to Vegas, an opinion she also shared.

There was a big part of her that hoped Adam would react more positively to her 'exotic dancing' when he eventually found out. She only did it to pay the bills and she couldn't resist the enormous paychecks she received every week.

Okay, maybe the money wasn't her sole motivation.

When she'd first gone up on stage, she thought she'd cry from extreme nervousness and embarrassment. It wasn't exactly a career she ever pictured herself remotely _doing_, especially if her parents were still alive. In time, with gentle encouragement from Alvi and Mars, her stage performances boosted her confidence to a level she'd never thought possible. She felt beautiful, powerful and desired. When she danced onstage in full make-up, mask and costume, she lost herself in the moment, thrilling to the music and the energy of the people watching her. It was a total _rush_ and it made her, for lack of a better word, happy.

Today, she was supposed to do a double shift and bar-tend as well as dance, but her two male 'mothers' had argued that she needed to mind their guest. In other words, they didn't want Adam potentially running amok in their condo unsupervised for too long.

"I...see." To Loki, most of what Brynhild had told him made absolutely no sense. He had no idea what manner of 'club' the female was referring to. She'd explained that the 'club' where she worked was an 'adult bar with a great dance floor.' For him, a 'club' was a formidable weapon used in battle. As for the dancing, he supposed that one needed an ideal space in which to do this. "You may leave me."

"You sure? I can try finding Mars again to..."

"There's no need to fuss. I'll be fine...unless...you have a desire to bathe the rest of me?"

Bryn did a double-take. At first, she wasn't sure if she'd heard him correctly but the look on Adam's face spoke volumes. His eyes twinkled and his mouth was quirked in a mischievous smile. _Cheeky bastard, aren't you?_ She was usually 'game on' when it came to harmless flirting, she'd had more than her fair share of practice at the club, but she wasn't too sure about Adam yet. "Maybe next time," she replied with a smile, shaking her head.

Grinning, Loki watched Brynhild exit the bathing room and took an appreciative note of how tightly her leggings clung to her firm backside.

_Now there's a bit of clothing I wouldn't mind seeing more of in Asgard._

* * *

><p>Once Jane calmed down, she and Darcy headed over to the nearest restaurant for a bite to eat. A place called Café Crepe called to them from across the road.<p>

"Can't believe I acted like such a crybaby in the middle of a mall," Jane said, embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it. I'd probably be just as messed up if I fell for a guy from another universe," Darcy said in a teasing tone. Jane couldn't help but laugh.

"Sounds really stupid, doesn't it?" Jane said, swishing her fork around her plate.

"If it makes you feel any better...I kinda have a crush on Jarvis," Darcy said, nibbling her lower lip.

"Stark's computer? You have a _crush_ on Stark's _computer_?" Jane replied incredulously.

"Geez, you make Jarv sound like a calculator, so lemme set the record straight here. Jarvis is a _supercomputer_ with Artificial Intelligence," Darcy explained. "Besides, he sounds kinda sexy." Jane gave her a disbelieving look.

"You know what? That _does_ make me feel better," Jane replied and flinched with a laugh when Darcy threw a strawberry at her.

After a span of companionable silence while they ate, Darcy bit her lip and said,"We should go back for those dresses. Let's live it up a little and have a some fun. I'm sure that's what Stark had in mind. Why else would he let us play with his stuff?"

"I guess," Jane said, still feeling uncomfortable about what Darcy had told her. Suddenly, a random thought occurred to her. Did Stark have a more _personal_ motive for inviting her to his home? That possibility was more frightening to her than never seeing Thor again!

* * *

><p>Loki draped the washcloth he'd used on his body on the ledge of the tub. He decided that he liked the bottle of 'Body Wash' which had a relaxing scent of sandalwood and a pleasant, grainy feel to it against his skin. The bath water he sat in no longer felt hot and he managed to quiet the mechanism for the churning water. Sliding to the tub's water spout he looked down and saw a metallic circle with the words 'push' engraved on it. As the water in the tub drained itself, Loki slid to the opposite side of the tub where Brynhild had left him clean towels. Carefully, he bent over and dried his hair, his injured right shoulder and left hand twinging painfully with the effort. He waited till the draining water was at its lowest point before he began drying his body. He didn't want his towel sopping wet.<p>

_Now, how to leave this tub without further injuring myself._

The steps of the dais weren't very high but the smooth stone made the surface slippery for his damp feet. It was beneficial for him that Brynhild left behind more than one dry towel.

Draping the damp towel he'd used across the low steps, Loki partially stood on top of the washcloth he placed at his feet in the tub. Using his left arm for leverage, he grunted as he sat himself on the tub's ledge. Drying the soles of his feet on the clean towel he'd spread on the floor, he used his legs to lift himself up to his full height. Patiently, he eased his way toward the vanity table in the bathing room and sat down on the soft bench.

In the mirror, Loki examined his appearance and was somewhat relieved that he looked greatly improved compared to the last time he saw his reflection. His pallor was still a bit too pale and he was rather thin from lack of proper nourishment, but most of the gashes and bruising of his injuries had faded to dull spots of purple and yellow, except for the uglier ones that remained on his left hand and an area of his right shoulder.

Taking a comb from the table, Loki untangled his damp hair which he normally kept enchanted so that most of the strands stayed away from his eyes during combat. Since he wasn't under any kind of danger at the moment and uncertain whether he'd retained _any_ of his magical ability in his new body, he left his hair in a loose, wavy mass to air dry. He briefly browsed the various bottles and containers in front of him and found them frivolous. Grunting as he stood up, he carefully left the bathing room.

On his bed, he saw that new garments were laid out for him: loose gray trousers, a shirt of the same color and other items that specifically covered his body's genitalia. Ignoring the undergarments, Loki, with some difficulty, wore the very comfortable, low-waisted trousers made from a wonderfully light, breathable cloth.

_I'm hungry_, Loki thought, prompted by an uncomfortable ache in his stomach. He glanced at the small cabinet that Brynhild used to store the pitcher of lemonade. Leaning against the edge of his mattress, he reached over with his foot and pulled open the night-stand door, feeling the breeze of crisp, cold air that spilled from its interior.

_An ice box to keep perishable food cold_, Loki thought with interest.

In Asgard, food was always prepared fresh and there were never any leftovers since Andhrimmer, The Cook, intuitively knew the precise portions to serve them with the help of his enchanted, tremendous golden kettle, Eldhrimmer. Common drinks at supper or at a feast were ale, wine or honeyed milk from either Heidrun, (a white alpha-nanny goat) or Eikthrynir (a large reindeer), both of which grazed from the leaves of the giant tree, Laerad, that hung over the tops of the glittering golden thatched roofs of the halls of Gladsheim and Valhalla. Food consisted of a selection or combination of poultry, goat, lamb, vegetables and fruit. (Enchanted livestock were well-cared for in pens at Fensalir and most of the fruits and vegetables were imported from the agricultural capital of the Nine Worlds: Vanaheim) Reserved for certain occasions were special sweets and a strong cider made from the golden apples that grew in Iduna's orchard. Every meal was different, flavorsome and immensely satisfying.

_I'll have to make do with feeding this body on the native _agriculture of_ Earth. _

He was still relatively weak to move around but he'd grown tired of his chamber, craving liberation from being bedridden for so long. Using the furniture in his room and the walls to lean against to steady himself, Loki slowly made it to his door.

_Now, let's see what lies beyond this chamber._

* * *

><p>A few thousand dollars later, Jane and Darcy sped their way back to Stark's mansion loaded with shopping bags and boxes, the pair exhilarated by their Audi R8 Spyder joyride and by the freedom of unlimited credit.<p>

"I can't believe we spent five-thousand dollars in one afternoon!" Jane exclaimed, dismayed as a gray cloud of guilt crept up on her.

"Chump change to a gazillionaire," Darcy replied with a grin, unloading her bags from the Audi R8 in the underground garage of Stark's mansion. "Right, Jarvis?"

"It's an inaccurate description of Mr. Stark's finances but allegorically acceptable," Jarvis answered dryly.

"See?" Darcy beamed. Jane laughed and shook her head. "Anyway, you'll forget how much that stuff costs after you put the whole thing on tonight."

"I guess." Jane sounded distant.

"Come on, let's get you all dolled up," Darcy coaxed, nudging Jane toward the Plexiglas door out of the garage to the upstairs living area. "Unlock, please, Jarvis."

"Okay, okay, I'm moving," Jane grinned when her friend kept nudging her from behind as they stomped up the stairs. "You're really serious about trying to set me up with Stark, aren't you?"

"Well, the guy already kinda opened the door. I'm just trying to shove _you_ through it," Darcy replied determinedly.

"I still think you're imagining things. Stark and I barely even know each other."

"Never underestimate the power of hormones," Darcy stated confidently. "For all we know, he's already done the whole stalker private detective thing on you. He doesn't even need to hire one, he probably just used Jarvis. Satellite imaging and hacking databases, crap like that. Besides, if you two hook up, I'm _so_ gonna be your bridesmaid."

"That's a little overboard," Jane replied.

"Well, wherever Thor is, if the dude's _watching_," Darcy looked up toward the ceiling. "If you can hear us, O god of thunder, you're gonna need to get your Barbie-blond, muscled ass down here _pronto_ or I'm setting Jane up with Tony! I'm sick and tired of seeing her so miserable. She deserves better. Someone _here_, someone _now_! You listening, big guy?"

"Hey, calm down," Jane said a bit worriedly. Her friend looked angry.

"I'm officially throwing down the gauntlet," Darcy kept calling out, spinning in place with her purchases in her hands. Then she stopped and shrugged, staring pointedly at her boss-lady, adding, "Ya can't keep waiting for the phone to ring."

"Part of me knows you're right," Jane confessed. "It's trying to convince the other half of me that wants to wait till my face turns blue." She pouted, flopping down onto the nearest couch in a boneless heap, closing her eyes and pressing her knuckles to her temples.

"Listen, don't sweat it. We'll get all sexy, have a nice dinner, chitchat with Mr. Iron Man...feel him out, roll with the punches."

"Great, now I feel like a gold-digger," Jane lamented.

"You overanalyze stuff too much. Do it with your work but keep it out of your love-life. Love doesn't have an equation, Jane, coz it's just _way_ too unpredictable and chaotic. Like you and Thor or me and..." Darcy stopped short and bit her lip.

Jane's eyes flashed to Darcy. "You keeping a secret boyfriend from me?"

"Uh, nope. I...forget I said anything," Darcy replied quickly, looking elsewhere but her friend's face. _Fuck. I'm so screwed._

Leaning forward from where she sat, Jane narrowed her eyes and studied her friend's strange, uncomfortable expression. _ She can't be_. "Darcy...you're not...'in love' with Jarvis...are you?"

Scratching her head and laughing in a self-deprecating manner, Darcy wrinkled a corner of her lip. "You think you and Thor are messed up? At least Thor's flesh and blood - that we know of. I'm falling for an advanced super-computer...which I totally blame on my infatuation with Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation, by the way."

"Come on. You're right. Let's go get fabulous and have fun tonight," Jane replied as she stood up, sat beside Darcy and gave her a tight hug.

* * *

><p>In the large, modern kitchen of his male hosts' dwelling, Loki went about exploring every cabinet and corner that he had access to. He familiarized himself with the location of every useful item, like cooking and eating utensils, food storage, spices and pantry contents. A mechanical device substituted an open-flamed hearth for cooking, something that he preferred to learn how to use <em>himself<em> rather than ask the humans. Since it was a device that served a basic, everyday function, the humans would certainly find it strange if they discovered that he had no knowledge of how to operate it.

Devices had manuals, that much he knew. From his brief visits to other more advanced cultures in Midgard, he saw some fundamental similarities. Earth's population had moved forward far faster with their technologies than he'd thought possible. Then again, he hadn't exactly kept up with any of the exploration journals concerning the humans of Earth since his first visit with Thor which had left a very unfavorable impression on him.

_If only I had a book that told me what all these devices are and what they do_, Loki thought with mild irritation. All he found were a large collection of cookbooks - that made his mouth water - but nothing on how to operate the mechanical hearth. Shrugging, he approached the device and studied the various glyphs on a slanted panel that appeared to be the main console, noticing the prominent circular dials. There were smaller symbols beside the dials that seemed to correspond to...location.

_Let's give it a try, then._

Twisting one of the dials to 'Max', Loki was momentarily stunned when a plume of flame erupted from one of the exposed metallic 'crowns' on the surface of the device. He quickly returned the dial to the 'Off' position.

_Well, that solves that. Which would mean that these little notches on the dials..._

He twisted one of the dials again but this time began at 'Min' and observed that the size of the flame progressed in ferocity toward 'Max.'

Grinning proudly to himself, Loki then went about the kitchen to make himself a meal. Pulling free a random cookbook from a selection on the counter, he flipped through the 'Breakfast' section and found the recipe for an 'Omelet.' When he found the contents of a combination to his liking, he scoured the kitchen for all the listed ingredients. Ignoring the twinges of pain from his left hand and right shoulder, Loki set a pan on one of the burners, finely chopped all the ingredients, added spices and soon enough as the instructions had stated, he'd made an 'Omelet.'

Smirking, he recalled how his brother Thor had ridiculed him constantly about spending too much time in Fensalir (Frigga's hall) with their mother's helpers and handmaidens doing 'domestic' work instead of combat training with him, Sif and his Warriors Three like a proper Asgardian champion. He'd _tried_ Thor's way for a while, honing his physical prowess on the battlefield with various weapons and tactics for killing or disarming an opponent individually or in groups. They'd always paired him with Sif who disliked the bias more than he did and as a result, she took her immense frustrations out on _him_. It was for the best, however, he felt that the competitive camaraderie he'd developed with Sif benefitted them both. She was guaranteed to be his most lethal and cunning opponent during training and, in his opinion, simulated the best conditions in an actual fight. He remembered on more than several occasions when their sparring had turned morbidly intense and it took Thor and The Warriors Three all they had to pry them apart.

_Memories of home_, Loki thought sadly before he returned to making his meal.

The most difficult maneuver for him was reaching a plate, having to grit his teeth from the sharp jab of his protesting shoulder as he stretched to take one from an overhead cabinet.

Now that Loki had his meal ready to eat on a plate, he searched the area for something to read. Browsing the shelf in the living room, his eyes focused on two thick books that read 'Thesaurus' and 'Dictionary' in big, bold letters on their spines. When he took both books down and flipped through their pages, his face lit up in delight.

_Perfect! Lexicons! These books should provide me with the words I need to sound...human_.

Loki balked in disgust at having to use the designation for his current condition.

Both books had a fair amount of weight and in his weakened state, he nearly dropped them trying to transport them to the kitchen.

Pushing his stool closer to the stone counter, Loki sat down with his omelet and began reading, starting with the Dictionary.

* * *

><p>Marius Casen sat comfortably in a designated VIP booth reserved for him and his husband, Alvis Werner at the popular Bourgeoisie night club they owned and managed. He smiled, sighing contentedly as he watched Bryn dancing the latest routine that they collaborated on for the past month. As always, she looked stunning in her sheer, white, Geisha costume and make-up, captivating the crowd of both men and women alike with her lovely body and alluring face. Bryn was the perfect fantasy girl onstage and Mars stifled a grin when he caught the tense, pouty stare of Bryn's direct competitor, Jessica Layden, from where she stood at the bar. The busty, curvy blonde had her own set of dedicated patrons but they weren't nearly as numerous as Bryn's. (Jessica's act was different from Bryn's. Even if the blonde could sing, her dancing wasn't nearly as expressive or seductive as Bryn's)<p>

Strong applause exploded all around him when Bryn executed a complicated set of acrobatic twists on her glittering dance pole. A good scan of the crowd told Mars that their new routine was a hit. He then brought out his touch-screen cellphone and modified the club's dance schedule for the next three months, highlighting Bryn's routine as the main attraction. Mars knew he and Alvi were favoring Bryn but until Jessica or any of the other girls showed promise and produced good profits on paper, they'd continue lavishing attention on their beloved brunette.

A ping alerted Mars of a text message from Alvi.

'Got Adam's ID. Be home soon. Luv u.'

Always _short and to the point. That's my Vivi,_ Mars smiled to himself. He'd long since given up speculating on Alvi's 'shady' activities and connections. Constantly reassured that what his life-partner did was nothing remotely illegal, Mars learned to take Alvi on his word. _I wonder how our new guest is getting on upstairs_, he wondered. _Better get Bryn to check up on him soon._

* * *

><p>"You can open your eyes now."<p>

Jane partially peeked with a narrow squint. "Is it safe?" she teased. "Where's my red, button nose?"

"I didn't make you look like a clown, Jane. Really, that hurts," Darcy laughed. "I was aiming for Porn Queen."

Immediately, Jane's eyes popped open wide in alarm and she carefully stared at herself in the mirror. The person reflected back at her wasn't someone she expected to see. "Is...is that _me_?"

"Yep. Who else? Told you so."

"Wow," Jane said in disbelief as she kept staring at herself. "Where'd you learn to do make-up?"

"It's a knack. I took theatre classes as an elective in college but I majored in political science instead. Wasn't interested in the acting so much but the backstage _magic_...couldn't get enough of how it all came together."

Darcy watched Jane twirl in front of a full-length mirror. "I take it you don't go to parties much?"

"Not really. Never wore anything this fancy before, either," Jane confessed.

"Not even prom?"

"Oh, I went to prom. I didn't have a date though, just went with a couple of friends. I was too much of a geek back then. Well, I still am."

"You don't look remotely geeky _now_," Darcy said in admiration. "You look like a movie star! Thanks to my skills, of course."

"You're looking amazing yourself. I _love_ that dress," Jane replied. She liked how the pattern on Darcy's dress matched her personality: colorful, playful, with underlying sophistication. The dress itself was a simple design, rounded neck, square cut and slightly tapered at the waist. Like her, Darcy wore her hair loose around her shoulders. On her feet were simple, black satin shoes with thick three inch heels and her only jewelry was a thick, ivory bangle with a black geometric pattern that complemented the dress.

"Thanks. Yours makes you look like a princess," Darcy said with a wide smile. The subtle, shimmery flesh-tone color of Jane's dress against her body was elegant and stunning. There was intricate beadwork on the entire strapless top half of her dress all the way to the back, with an empire waist at the front. It was a bit longer than her own dress, because the layers of thin material went slightly past the opaque skirt underneath. At the hem of the sheer material was more beadwork in flowery, abstract shapes. On her feet were a pair of open-toed satin shoes the same color as her dress and at the base of her neck, with a quarter carat diamond every inch and a half, rested a thin-chained platinum necklace.

"I guess we're all set," Jane said and glanced at the digital clock on her LCD screen that blinked at five minutes to seven. "We should head downstairs."

"Hey, Jarv, is Tony here yet?" Darcy asked, looking in the direction of the screen.

"Mr. Stark's helicopter's is on it's way. ETA twenty minutes," Jarvis answered.

Darcy giggled delightedly when three red bars appeared on the monitor, oscillating vertically in both directions to Jarvis's spoken words.

"What's up with you?"

"I told Jarv about episodes of Knight Rider - y'know, that hilarious show from the 80s - and how K.I.T.T., Michael Knight's black Pontiac Trans Am, had these really neat lights that came on whenever he talked, so I asked Jarv if he could maybe do one for me...and he _did!_"

"Judging by your reaction, Ms. Lewis - "

"Darcy."

"...Darcy, that you liked my demonstration?"

"It was perfect! You're awesome, Jarv," Darcy said with a big grin.

"I appreciate the compliment," Jarvis replied and blipped off the screen. Jane's mouth was partly open when she stared at Darcy's reactions.

"You weren't kidding. You're really into...into," Jane tried to say.

"Told ya it's fucked up," Darcy replied with a shrug. "Anyway, let's get down there, I'm starving!"

* * *

><p>Bryn wiped the last of the heavy stage make-up off her face and glanced at her watch. <em>Seven o'clock. We've left Adam alone in the condo for nearly four hours! Hope he's doing all right and not abusing his injuries<em>.

A melodic pinging from her cellphone told her of incoming text messages. The first was from Mars:

'U should check up on Adam.'

The second was from Alvi and she laughed out loud when she read the exact same thing. _Those two crack me up_, Bryn grinned, shaking her head as she put her touch-screen phone away. One last look in the mirror and she rummaged through her bag, retrieving her 'Clark Kent' glasses out of habit. _Wait a sec, I don't have to drive home anymore_, she thought excitedly. Her room was now an elevator ride away! She had time to relax and enjoy a drink at the bar if she wanted to! Punch-drunk with glee, she tossed her glasses back into her bottomless handbag.

Grabbing her phone, she replied to Mars's text. She waited a moment and within minutes, she had an answer:

'Alvi's home. Drinks. 3 of us. =D'

Grinning, Bryn packed her stuff and got up to change before entering the club's bar.

Outside in a VIP booth reserved for the Bourgeoisie's owners, Alvis Werner marched up to his better half with a content expression. He tossed a heavy-looking brown manila envelope on the table and sat down, giving Mars a quick kiss on the lips.

"Good hunting?" Mars asked, curious to know details. His other half had been gone since six o'clock this morning.

"Successful," Alvi replied, leaning back against the plush, cushioned upholstery of their booth. "I was able to get all the I.D. Adam needs to start his new life here in the city of jolly ole' San Francisco in the United States of America."

"In _one_ day?" Mars said skeptically. Alvi smiled and held his life-partner's hand tightly.

"Someone owed me a favor. I went to collect it. Everything in that envelope's legal and Immigration won't come beating down our door," Alvi reassured him, accustomed to his companion's paranoia. "Don't fret, love."

"You'd think that after all this time, I'd get used to...whatever it is you do outside the club," Mars sighed. "I just worry because I don't know who you're dealing with and where you go." He pouted when Alvi simply squeezed his hand and smiled cryptically. "Fine. Don't expect me to stay single for long when you come home in a body bag."

"_Who's_ dead?" Bryn asked when she overheard Mars's last word.

"Me apparently," Alvi said with a laugh.

"Huh?"

"Ignore him," Mars replied curtly, glancing at his companion irritably. "Anyway, Brynnie, you were marvelous up there today," he beamed. "How did you like your costume?"

"It's good. The material's really light and it doesn't get in my way," Bryn reported. "We should go ahead and get two more made in red and black."

Mars nodded and made a note on his cellphone's planner software. "Gratian's free this weekend, he can squeeze us in for a fitting."

"I went ahead and ordered some drinks. I even told Davin to personally deliver them," Bryn stated with a sly smile. She decided on something nice for the club and wore a backless, glittery dark-green dress with a slightly layered skirt that fell to half-way down her thighs and held up by a black clasp at the back of her neck.

"Cheeky pixie," Mars remarked in mock reprimand. He knew Bryn enjoyed teasing him with Davin and he'd never admit out loud that he really didn't mind. He even tried his best to conceal his enthusiasm when he spied the shirtless, blonde Narcissus heading toward their booth.

"Hello, gentle men, lady," Davin expressed smoothly, setting down a tray with a 'Bourbon Sidecar', Martini with a twist of lemon and a 'Monte Cristo.' "Your drinks," he said, winking at Mars who hid bashfully behind his hands as the rest of them laughed. "Like my new jeans?"

Davin was referring to his tight, skinny red-leather jeans that rode ridiculously low on his waist, exposing a generous view of his muscled abdominal area. What Davin lacked in modesty he totally made up for in...exposure.

"Keep staring at Mars like that and I'll make you wear a tiger-print bow-tie with a matching tiger-head thong along with ears and a tail for work tomorrow," Alvi smirked with a devilish arc of his eyebrow.

"That a _promise_, boss?" Davin answered, matching Alvi's leer. Bryn was in stitches, clutching her stomach.

"Get out of here," Alvi exclaimed as he partially rose from his seat 'threatening' Davin with a smack. He watched as their young bartender retreat to the safety of their fully-stocked bar, grinning madly like a Cheshire Cat. "I worry about that boy."

"Nah, he's just a crazy flirt," Bryn laughed, wiping away the tears from her eyes. She sipped her Monte Cristo and sighed with satisfaction. "Damn. He makes the _best_ drinks though. You guys better hold onto him." Alvi and Mars laughed out loud. "Crap, I walked right into that one, didn't I? Stupid English language. You can't say _anything_ anymore without sexual innuendo."

"Speaking of sex and innuendo, what was our personal Eros doing upstairs when you left him?" Mars asked as Alvi leaned in with interest.

"Well, Mr. Freak of Nature's in full swing. I warned Adam that it's still too soon for his hand but he wanted me to remove all his bandages anyway," Bryn explained. "He also insisted that he was strong enough to look after himself, so I left him in the bath tub."

"He can already move his broken left hand?" Alvi said in disbelief.

"Not without pain but it's still incredible how he's healing so _fast_," Bryn said.

"We should book him an appointment with Alicia soon," Alvi suggested.

"I think we should ask him first. Adam hasn't taken a single painkiller since I took him in. He could be part of some religion that doesn't like hospitals," Bryn said with a shrug.

"Fine. At any rate, we best get going upstairs. No telling what he's done with himself for the last four hours," Alvi remarked.

* * *

><p>"Ms. Foster and Darcy are waiting patiently for you in the living room," Jarvis informed Stark the minute his helicopter touched down on his backyard helipad.<p>

"Okay, good. Don't tell them I'm here yet. I need to get ready first," Stark instructed. "Shit. I'm late for my own dinner date, it's embarrassing," he muttered as he disembarked and jogged hurriedly toward the main entrance to his home.

Inside, he skidded to a halt at the top of a short flight of steps when he saw his two female guests laughing loudly as they played a game of competitive Tetris on one of the glass window panels in his Cliffside-view living room. They were using their fingers to furiously twirl and rearrange the colorful puzzle blocks as they fell quickly to the bottom of the screen. Glancing at his low, multilevel polished driftwood table, he saw the diminished platters of gourmet hors d'oeuvres he'd ordered earlier, discreetly delivered by his personal favored catering company. Not wanting to interrupt them, Stark took a detour to his room to get ready for dinner.

* * *

><p>Gilded elevator doors parted with a ping as it reached the top floor of the Bourgeoisie club building's penthouse suite belonging to Bryn's self-proclaimed guardians. In the short hallway to the double-door entrance, there was the unmistakable lingering smell of cooked food.<p>

Mars and Bryn shared a nervous glance behind Alvi's back.

"Fuck," Alvi mumbled to himself as he quickly fumbled with the keys to their suite. The kitchen was _his_ domain and the idea of having a complete stranger messing around in it exasperated him. He just hoped Adam hadn't burnt the newly renovated place down.

When the double-doors parted, the trio spilled inside, Alvis briskly walking toward the kitchen. After a brief inspection, he was very surprised to find his kitchen _spotless. _Every item that was used had been washed and placed back where it belonged. _Well, I'll be damned._

"Where's Adam? He's not in his room," Bryn said a bit worriedly and jogged over to check the living room couch. _Did he leave?_ The thought twisted her stomach into knots.

"You don't suppose he's..." Mars said before he and Alvi ran toward their master bedroom, Bryn following in confusion after them. Through their master bedroom en-suite bathroom was a door that led to the building's roof which Bryn had never seen before.

Turning around, Mars blocked Bryn's way and said, "Alvi and I meant for this to be a surprise but it seems Adam beat us to it." He then stepped aside, allowing Bryn to pass and shadowed her around the corner.

"No way! You guys built a _pool!_" Bryn exclaimed in amazement.

The rectangular, infinity-style pool (it stretched out to the very edge of the building's rooftop) was a decent size, enough to comfortably fit fifty people in a party if they all decided to jump in.

As Bryn made a mental note to update her swim-wear, a startled, high-pitched yelp made her turn her head. One of the loungers was turned away from them to face the sun, a small stack of books beside it.

"Found him," Mars replied unevenly, walking stiffly toward Bryn and stopping beside her with his face beet red as he fidgeted where he stood. Puzzled, Alvi went to glance at their guest on the lounger and he produced nearly the same reaction that Mars had. The two of them began giggling and whispering to each other.

_Good. He's still here and not wandering the streets of San Francisco_, Bryn thought with relief as she approached her 'missing' Science Experiment. When she had a full view of Adam...she blushed instantly and covered her mouth with a squeak.

Adam was in a deep asleep - judging by his slow, even breathing - the gray lounge pants she'd laid out for him to wear folded neatly in a strip over his eyes, his gracefully sculpted naked body exposed unashamedly on the lounger in the late afternoon sunshine. The thought of Adam wandering downtown San Francisco _naked_ made the color of her blush deepen.

"Well, at least we know what he's been up to since we left him. Personally, I'd leave him be and take plenty of pictures but I think we should wake him before the neighbors start complaining. Oh, wait. I don't think the neighbors mind at all. I think they _are_ taking pictures," Alvi stated, peering at the windows of the taller buildings around them with a laugh, Mars along with him.

"Perfect. Adam's the kind of guy with a _zero_ sense of modesty," Bryn remarked with a quirk of her lip. _Comes with the territory, I guess._

"Maybe we should plan a trip to Iceland for our next vacation," Mars said, elbowing Alvi who began laughing again.

"Screw it, I'm waking him up," Bryn huffed, stomping toward Adam's lounger. Forcing her gaze to stay on his face, she removed the folded strip of clothing that covered his eyes and tossed it over his...thing. "Yo, Tarzan, wake up." When Adam still hadn't stirred, she nudged his forehead with her fingers. "Earth to the next cover of Playgirl magazine...Adam wake up!"

"Mmmnnnghhh..." he protested, his left arm draping over his eyes.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Bryn said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She glared at Alvi and Mars who were laughing at her. She was tempted to tip the lounger over, tossing Adam into the pool. She settled instead for giving the lounger a few hard kicks.

"Curse it...Brother...I'm resting..." Adam mumbled distantly.

"I'm not your brother, it's Bryn," she replied, the annoyance in her voice evaporating. Adam's family may have disowned him but at least they were _alive!_ Feeling depressed, she shook her flip-flops off her feet and sat down heavily on the ledge of the pool.

Dipping her feet into the water, she pensively stared at the rippling liquid that lapped against her skin and the distorted image of her red, pedicured toes. _Good thing I didn't wear open-toed shoes tonight. My pedicure doesn't exactly match my dress_, she thought casually, trying to think of something else other than the parents she recently lost.

She smiled to herself when Alvi and Mars sat down on either side of her. _These two never miss a beat._

"I'm okay. Just got a bit sad."

"We know," Mars replied softly, nudging Bryn gently. Moving over to sit cross-legged behind her, he started combing his fingers carefully through her long, reddish-brown hair.

Shutting her eyes, Bryn was reminded by another memory of the parents she'd recently lost. "My mom used to play with my hair like that...whenever I was upset," she said faintly.

"Oh, darling," Alvi sighed in sympathy. He and Mars exchanged sad glances.

"Tell you what. To cheer you up, how about we all have dinner by the pool?" Mars suggested.

"I'd like that," Bryn nodded with a smile, fiendishly glancing toward Adam's lounger. "Know what would _really_ cheer me up, though?" She leaned in closer to her guardians with a conspiratorial grin and whispered her plan to both of them, the pair chortling agreeably.

* * *

><p>Directly behind them, the sound of someone clearing their throat sharply made Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis squeal.<p>

"Don't _do_ that! You almost gave me a heart attack," Jane scolded, glaring at Stark who was grinning widely with mirth.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist. You were both having so much fun I got a little jealous," he replied. "Don't think I've ever seen my windows used as a game screen before."

"You've never played video games like this with Jarvis before?" Darcy said in disbelief.

"Not recreationally," Stark admitted. "I get too distracted and I end up fiddling with stuff in my workshop or taking apart my cars," he chuckled.

"When I'm restless, I start building some silly gadget I end up using for my research," Jane piped in shyly. _Geez, that sounded geeky._

"Really?" Stark said with interest. "Hold on, let me rewind and get this night started properly." He backed up and bowed low with a theatrical flourish. "Good evening, ladies. First, I'd like to say how ravishing you both look and I apologize for being so late." He tried not to stare at Jane whose appearance nearly made him blush. _Damn...she's...beautiful._

Clearing his throat a second time, he added more casually, "I hope you're both hungry coz, frankly, I'm _starving_. Pepper, who I'll be introducing to both of you when we get to the restaurant, had me running ragged all day in meeting after meeting. If I knew how full my stupid schedule was I would've cancelled some of them."

"You're here now. Besides, between Darcy and Jarvis here, they can keep me entertained for weeks," Jane replied with a smile.

"Okay," Stark said, clapping this hands together loudly. "Let's get going." He stood aside, extending his arm toward the stairs that led to his garage. "I'm driving this time. Ladies first."

He watched momentarily as both of them filed past him, catching up to Jane and walking beside her. "You look beautiful, by the way. Thought, I'd...tell you that," he said shyly, wondering why he felt like an awkward teenager around her.

"Thank you," Jane said timidly, a slight blush to her cheeks. (which Stark found endearing) "You look handsome yourself." Stark's Prada-designed evening wear looked stylish, comfortable and tailored nicely to his body. _I did not just go there_.

Swallowing nervously, Jane distracted herself by speculating on where Stark intended to take them for dinner.

* * *

><p>"You think it's cold enough?" Bryn whispered with a grin. She couldn't believe she was about to douse Adam awake with a bucket full of ice water. <em>I guess I'll just deal with the consequences later<em>.

Mars and Alvi stayed back, watching her from a short distance away as she neared Adam's sleeping form on the lounger and dumped the freezing contents of her large Tupperware container square on his head. She grinned when Adam sputtered and spoke something - which sounded suspiciously like cursing - in a language that she guessed was Icelandic. He was thoroughly soaking wet even if his reaction was more subdued than she thought possible. Not even a single goose-bump on his skin!

"Was that meant to be funny?" Loki spoke icily, not the least bit amused by being _rudely_ awakened with a cascade of cold water, even if the temperature hadn't bothered him. _If I'm human...shouldn't extreme hot or cold affect me more?_ _Hmm_.

He removed the strips of black hair that had plastered themselves to his face. "Wait, I had _books_..." He searched quickly beside his lounger and saw that the books he'd borrowed were nowhere to be found.

"Looking for these?" Alvi remarked, sidestepping into view and holding up his rare, collectible leather-bound First Edition novels of 'Crime and Punishment' by Fyodor Dostoevsky and 'Beyond Good and Evil' by Friedrich Nietzsche. "I'm touched you were worried about them."

"Indeed, I was troubled," Loki replied in his unusually archaic, formal manner of speaking. "I borrowed your books briefly to read and I intended to return them in the exact condition they were found. I feared they were ruined by Bryn's...prank."

Having studied the entire contents of both the Dictionary and the Thesaurus, Loki was eager to use the flurry of new words he'd stockpiled in his head.

"Not exactly 'light' reading, either," Alvi muttered with a quirk of his brow. "Good thing you had these handy then." Pointing to his thick copies of the Cambridge Dictionary and Rogets Thesaurus. "I'm sure there were words in these novels you've never used or read before."

"Yes. The Dictionary and Thesaurus were excellent sources," Loki replied with a smile. "I can't believe the sheer volume of words you hu - people use."

"You didn't actually _read_ them, right?" Mars remarked jokingly, sidling up to Alvi. "_Nobody_ reads a Dictionary or Thesaurus." When Adam just tilted his head in mild confusion, his eyes widened slightly in disbelief.

"Okay, you can get me back for dumping cold water on you. Whatever," Bryn said with a shrug, disappointed that her attempted joke on Adam was unsuccessful. "Just a bit of advice though, you're not living in Iceland anymore. Here in America, you can't go prancing around naked in public whenever you feel like it. There are laws in some states against that kind of behavior. You can get arrested." _With the way you look, Adam, you won't last ten seconds in a prison._

"Very well, then. When I'm in public view, I'll refrain from exposing myself, as you put it," Loki replied with obvious amusement. "In the privacy of my...bedroom, I'll behave however I like. Is that acceptable?"

_Smartass_. "Here, cover up," Bryn said, tossing a clean, black towel at his head which he quickly ducked with a wince. "Hey, take it easy. You can do your flashy reflexes when you've _completely_ healed."

Flipping through the Roget's Thesaurus, Mars glanced at Adam then back at the page he'd chosen. There was only one way to stop his nagging feeling of curiosity. "Effulgent," he spoke out, staring at their weird guest expectantly.

Looking toward Mars, Loki grinned. "You doubt me?"

"Like I said before, _nobody_ reads a Dictionary or Thesaurus. It's _impossible_," Mars stated determinedly.

"Effulgent: adjective; glowing, luminous. Synonyms: beaming, blazing, bright, brilliant, dazzling, and so forth. Page 292," Loki answered smugly.

"Oh, my God. He's...he's _absolutely_ _right_," Mars said in shock, nearly dropping the Thesaurus he held as pins and needles traveled up his spine. Alvi and Bryn zipped over to him and checked the book he held.

Brows crunching together, Alvi chose another page over his spouse's shoulder and said, "Verisimilitude."

_Silly mortals_. "Verisimilitude: noun; authenticity. Synonyms: color, credibility, genuineness, likeliness, plausibility, to name a few. Second word near the top of page 888," Loki replied easily with a wide smile. _This is fun._ "Ask me another."

"I'm good," Mars squeaked, slamming the Thesaurus closed.

"A Photographic Memory," Alvi said in awe. "That's incredible. I never thought I'd live to meet someone with such a gift."

_Awesome, maybe he can fly too,_ Bryn thought sarcastically. "Is everyone in your family like you?" she said in consternation.

"No. Not like me," Loki replied tightly. The amusement had drained from his face and was replaced by a brooding, almost angry expression.

"I'm sorry. I guess...whatever happened between you and your family...it's still a bit of a sore spot," Bryn said calmly.

_Oh, much bigger than a mere 'spot.' More like an astronomically wide and fetid, turbulent chasm_. "I'd rather not speak of it," was Loki's terse reply.

"Guess we'll know better than to play a game of Scrabble with you then," Alvi spoke, trying to lighten the uncomfortably tense climate.

"I adore games! Teach me that one," Loki replied excitedly, his mood immediately brightening with the enthusiasm of a little boy.

"What's the point if you've memorized every word in the English language?" Mars answered back. "You'll have to settle for playing against a computer."

_A computer!_ "Do you have one here? May I see it?" Loki asked intently.

"Well, I've got a laptop...but I don't have any games on it," Alvi said slowly, confused by their weird guest's reactions. "You didn't own a computer where you come from?"

"Technology isn't available where my family lives," Loki said simply. _What use do Asgardians have for the absurd technologies of mortals?_

"You're painting quite a bizarre picture of yourself there, Adam," Alvi replied, who constantly updated his mental notes on their weird and beautiful guest.

"I believe the term you're searching for, Alvis, regarding my family and myself, which also includes my upbringing, is _eccentric_," Loki stated, delighted at having to use his new vocabulary in conversation. He then noticed that Bryn had withdrawn herself to staring at the water as she sat away fro them on the ledge of the pool. When Alvi and Mars followed his gaze, they exchanged sad glances. "What's the matter with Bryn?"

"Uh...I think it's best we leave that up to her to tell you," Mars replied.

"Have I offended her with anything I've said?" Loki asked again, curious.

"Whatever she's feeling has nothing to do with our present conversation," Alvi answered.

"If not the present...then the past?" Loki said, looking toward Bryn.

"It's a _delicate_ matter, Adam. I would advise using extreme caution when you ask her," Alvi suggested sternly, feeling protective.

"I see," Loki said. _Best left for another time then_.

"Well, I'd better get dinner started," Alvi said, glancing at his watch. "We're eating out here, Adam, and you're welcome to join us."

"I would like that," Loki said with a smile. "I prefer to stay outdoors for as long as I can."

"In that case, you stay here and relax, Mars and I will be out shortly," Alvi said cordially.

"Wait for me, I'll go help," Bryn said as she stood up, Adam ambling to stand beside her, the knee-length black towel wrapped securely around his waist.

"Allow me," he said with a grin. Using his right hand, he gave Bryn a good shove as she was putting on her flip-flops.

With a loud shriek, Bryn lost her balance and instantly fell into the pool with a big splash.

"Now, _that_ is funny," Adam Laoki grinned triumphantly.

* * *

><p>to be continued<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

1 Oh, look! There's a bird in here.

2 There you go, little one. Now you can have your new friend close by and you can sing to each other whenever you like.

3 Children. Such demanding little beasts, aren't they?

4 The child is a witch!

5 Get that woman out of here!

6 Stupid peasants.

7 Come, little one. Let us find your parents.

8 Fine. Stay here then. I have guests to attend to.

* * *

><p>Loki is age '15' while Sigyn is age '5' in the flashback. I'm assuming that Thor and Loki are only days apart. (between Thor's birth and when Loki was found) Besides, age designation is insignificant to immortals. LOL.<p>

The nickname 'Petal' Loki gave to Sigyn because she reminds him of an 'exquisitely delicate blossom.' Sigyn's nickname to Loki is 'Lulu' which means 'pearl' in Arabic.

Loki and Sigyn's untimely visit to Earth occurred in 1661 France during the rule of Louis XIV, also known as the 'Sun King.' The woman who found Sigyn was Louise de La Vallière, Louis XIV's mistress.

Also, since both Loki and Thor are adolescents in the flashback their voices are a few octaves higher than how they sound in the movie. ROFL. With Loki's black hair grown long and wavy down to his waist, from behind, many Asgardians mistake him for a young maiden! ;D Loki wanted to be a _distinctly_ separate entity from his brother in _every_ way possible while staying true to himself despite obvious...concerns. (Ain't sibling rivalry grand?)

Though Loki's been 'banned' from Ljossalfheim, many of the Alfar visited him periodically and because he was so 'pretty', they encouraged him to grow his hair.

FYI the Kree, the Shi'ar Empire, Galactus and the Living Tribunal all come from the Marvel Comic Universe. *glances at personal Quasar comic section*

Hmm. I wonder what underwear Loki would choose? Boxers or briefs? I get this funny impression that they don't bother wearing underwear in Asgard. ROFL. (Similar to what George Lucas told Carrie Fisher in all seriousness on the set of Star Wars, that they 'didn't have underwear in space' xD) I'm a silly girl. *does Scooby dance*

Like my Loki/Sif hint? I think I _might_ be inspired enough to write an interlude chapter about them. I've sussed out Loki's relationship between each member of The Warriors Three and I'll include them too. My next fave is Loki/Fandral, only coz these two have _way_ too much fun together. LOL.

My story banner's up! Download on my ffnet profile! :D

* * *

><p><strong>Song Selection<strong>: (for the story)

Loki & Bryn -

'This Love (Will Be Your Downfall), Ellie Goulding, Lights album

'Set Fire to the Rain', Adele, 21 album

'Venus as a Boy', Bjork, Debut album

'What Else is There', Royksopp, The Understanding album

'This Love,' Craig Armstrong, Cruel Intentions soundtrack

Loki & Sigyn -

'Frosti', Bjork, Vespertine album

Bryn:

The Kills, Blood Pressures (entire album)


	4. Of The Past and Present

*Avengers Fan-fiction by Kemurikat*

* * *

><p><strong>Such Fragile Creatures: Act 04 - Of The Past and Present<strong>

* * *

><p>A metallic dark-blue Porsche Panamera Turbo S sat waiting for the well-dressed trio as they exited the Stark mansion. A smiling, bulky-looking man the women had never met before stood casually beside the vehicle, leaning against the right-hand passenger door.<p>

"Ladies, meet Harold Hogan. 'Happy,' this is Miss Jane Foster and Miss Darcy Lewis." Stark said, introducing his two female companions the minute they were all within earshot.

"Pleased to meet you both. Just call me Happy," Hogan replied, shaking the hands of his lovely new acquaintances. _So, this is the Jane Foster Tony's going crazy over. As always, the guy can sure pick 'em. _

He held the door open for Ms. Foster, gesturing for her to sit in the vehicle's passenger seat. The minute Foster was inside, he did the same to Darcy Lewis, ushering her into the seat behind Jane.

"Boss, you sure you don't want me to drive tonight?"

"I'll give you a call if I run into any problems," Stark replied with a grin and entered the driver's seat. He took a brief look at the vehicle's dashboard, adjusted everything to make himself comfortable and revved the Porsche SUV's engine loudly, a look of approval on his face. "Make yourself at home, Hap," he winked and purposefully peeled off in a spectacular cloud of burning rubber.

"Where are we going?" Jane asked curiously as they blazed a trail along Pacific Coast Highway One.

"You'll see," Stark said cryptically.

* * *

><p>"She can't swim, you idiot!" Alvi yelled in a panic, running hastily toward the pool.<p>

_What have I done_? Loki thought in alarm.

Without a moment's hesitation, Loki jumped into the water, ignoring the sharp jabbing pain from his right shoulder and left hand as he swam toward a sinking Bryn. She was wide-eyed and struggling when he wound his arms around her waist from behind, kicking madly with his feet and legs toward the pool's surface.

Alvi had jumped in moments later, hauling both him and Bryn to the shallow end and onto the pool's steps.

Gritting his teeth and grimacing, Loki coughed and curled into a ball, his body naked again from the loss of the towel around his waist which now lay at the bottom of the pool.

"Cough it up, darling, you'll be fine," Alvi said soothingly, rubbing Bryn's back as she expelled the last of the water from her lungs. He glared at Adam who was curled up beside them.

"Here, let's get you out of the water," Mars said as he tried to help their guest.

"Don't touch me," Loki hissed, glancing menacingly at Mars with red-rimmed eyes. "Leave me...be." The terrible throbbing from his recently unbandaged injuries had made him nauseous, his vision scattering into a million sparkling white stars.

"Adam?" Bryn said weakly, turning to face him. _He jumped in to get me...even if he knew he might...shit._ "Don't move him. Lemme have a look first."

"What are you doing?" Alvi asked, perturbed. "You nearly drowned."

"How the hell was he supposed to know I couldn't swim?" Bryn argued back, her voice hoarse from the strain of coughing so hard. "It's okay, Adam, it's me. I just want to have a look. Make sure nothing got broken again."

Loki uncurled himself slowly onto his back, grimacing as he propped himself against the steps with his legs, his body partly buoyant from being halfway in the water. His eyes were tightly shut but he could feel Brynhild's gentle, probing fingers on his most painful injuries. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at her. "Forgive me...had I known...you couldn't swim, I would not have...pushed you...into the water," he labored to say, wincing in pain.

"Guess this proves you're not a mind-reader," Bryn replied with a small smile. "Doesn't feel like you broke anything but your bruises just got, um, bigger and meaner-looking."

"That's fine," Loki rasped dismissively, gazing up at the darkening sky.

"Come on, let's get you dried up and into some clothes," Bryn said gently. "Otherwise, I'm gonna start to think you're allergic to pants."

Chuckling weakly, Loki was immensely relieved of two things. The first was that he hadn't re-broken any of his bones and the second was that he'd _genuinely_ understood Brynhild's joke, having recently acquainted himself with the word 'allergy.'

He gritted his teeth when the humans did their best to help him stand and leave the pool. He then felt a warm, dry towel as it was wrapped around his waist by Mars. Under the circumstances, Loki had to admit that along with their generous hospitality, his mortal body was well cared for here. Also, he had grown rather accustomed to the trio of humans and hadn't detected any sinister motivations beyond their eagerness to help him recover from his injuries.

_There's nothing I can do but watch and wait. I will stay with them as I heal, study and learn everything I can about Earth and the limits of my new form._

_I haven't much choice._

* * *

><p>It was an Italian restaurant called Pecorino's, a tiny, unassuming place with a red-tiled roof, wedged between a white stucco modern art gallery and a beige-colored building with Roman columns on San Vicente Boulevard in Los Angeles. Jane hadn't known what to expect when she and Darcy were escorted to the restaurant's main entrance...and it certainly wasn't the sight that greeted her eyes when she stepped past the threshold.<p>

The interior was warm and elegant, with a simple, old world, European charm. The left wall looked like it was torn out of an old brick house and decorated with paintings and a large, golden rectangular mirror. The roof was warm white with large oak beams running across it, the same wood and finish used on all the tables and chairs. The lighting was incandescent, much like the feeling of soft candlelight from beautiful wrought-iron chandeliers and several table lamps. Red curtains hung on brass fixtures that were drawn to separate parts of the restaurant for different functions.

There were also a surprisingly limited amount of tables inside the restaurant that screamed Reservation Only and on a Saturday night, for the restaurant to be completely _empty_, it meant that Stark had bought out the _entire_ place for a private dinner.

Jane's heart rate increased with some anxiety.

They were lead to a nook at the back of the restaurant where a table was especially prepared for _them_, the black table cloth draped over it was a clear indication since all the other tables were covered with white linens.

"Miss Potts will be out shortly," a smiling man with a thick build and a chef's uniform told them the minute they took their seats.

"Mario, this is Miss Jane Foster, her friend and associate, Miss Darcy Lewis," Stark said. "So, what's on Raffaele's menu tonight?" he added, eager to hear what his favorite chef had prepared for them this evening. Mario then promptly described their special five course dinner along with recommended vintage wines that complemented each delectable dish.

"Perfect. You and your brother have exquisite taste," Stark said proudly.

The man simply nodded humbly and walked toward the kitchen.

Soon, a statuesque blond clicked her way toward their table from behind a curtained area of the restaurant.

"You're looking lovely as always, Pepper," Stark stood to greet her, the two giving each other a warm hug. "Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis, meet Miss Pepper Potts, a dear friend and colleague to whom I owe...well, _everything_."

Pepper showed a hint of confusion when she glanced at Stark. She'd never been introduced in that manner before. He was acting a bit strange tonight. Glancing at the two young women sitting at their table, her eyes settled on Jane Foster's lovely face and wondered if her presence was responsible. She was somewhat familiar with Jane's personal profile but she'd have to review the young woman's file. From what she could recall, Foster seemed just as brilliant as Stark, though not as widely known or published within the scientific community.

"Pleased to meet you both," Pepper replied, shaking their hands firmly.

As Mario approached them and presented their appetizers, Jane noticed the frequent curious glances she received from Pepper.

The evening progressed with an excellent dinner - the best Italian food Jane and Darcy had ever tasted - along with good conversation and a generous amount of red and white wine.

"I think I've had enough to drink, thanks," Jane giggled, covering the top of her wine glass with her hand to prevent Stark from refilling it. "You trying to get me drunk?"

"Now, why in the world would I do something like that?" Stark replied innocently. "Sorry. I'm usually with people who have a high tolerance for liquor. Especially here." He re-corked a bottle of vintage red wine and placed it back in the metal chiller. "I think I've had enough for tonight too."

At that statement, Pepper stared at Stark. The man was _definitely_ acting strange tonight. Stark, practicing _restraint_? It was very unlike him! She began to suspect that there was something other than professional courtesy behind Stark's invitation to Jane Foster.

Jane caught Pepper glancing at her again and it began to make her uncomfortable. What was the woman's problem? Unless...she and Stark were involved more _personally_ in private. It was the only logical explanation...and since Stark had the nasty reputation for being a playboy..._great_. That was the _last_ thing she needed, getting involved in some crazy 'love triangle' with Stark at the center. She definitely had to gets some facts straightened between them before things got out of hand. Besides, she was still in love with Thor.

"Will...Pepper be joining us on the trip back to the mansion?" Jane asked with a smile, addressing Stark.

"Um...not that I know of," Stark answered, confused. He looked at Pepper who was just as baffled. "Why'd you say that?"

"Well, if you'll both pardon me for saying it, in my opinion, the two of you make a cute couple," Jane observed. She caught Darcy's sharp look that said: 'What the hell are you doing?'

When Stark and Potts looked shocked, Jane regretted her words.

"I'm sorry. That was totally inappropriate of me to say out loud. Now I _know_ I've had too much to drink," she said apologetically, flushing slightly with embarrassment.

Rather than the reprimands Jane expected to receive from her comment, she and Darcy sat staring at both Stark and Potts who were laughing so hard they could barely breath.

"I guess...I guess we do make a 'cute couple', eh, Pepper," Stark managed to say, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Yeah, maybe in a totally different _lifetime_," Pepper giggled out, clutching her stomach. "That's sweet of you to say, Jane, but no, Tony and I aren't a couple. We'd drive each other crazy."

"Nah. Pepper and I are just too much alike but we'll remain close friends for the rest of our lives," Stark said, looking at Pepper fondly and giving her a warm kiss on the cheek. She blushed slightly.

"Oh, I see," Jane said, a bit disappointed and a little worried. "I'm really sorry. Will you excuse me? I-I need some air." She abruptly stood up and briskly walked toward the front entrance of the restaurant and out the double doors.

Stark, worried, followed after her.

_Crap_, Darcy thought, nibbling at her lower lip.

Pepper then turned her attention to Darcy, who visibly gulped.

"Mind telling me what's going on?"

* * *

><p>Dinner was healthy and satisfying as Loki remained behind after his human caretakers refused his offer to help them clean up the food dishes. Wearing only a pair of comfortable camouflage-green lounge pants, Loki stood against the railing of the Bourgeoisie building's roof staring at the busy human city of nighttime San Francisco below him. His right arm was in a light sling, his left hand wrapped in flexible bandages. He'd reluctantly agreed to endure another 24 hours of being a mummified invalid if it made Brynhild less worried about him. For the moment, the persistent female knew more about his new human body than he did.<p>

Resting his chin on his left forearm on the railing, Loki sighed as the inevitability of his new fate slowly sunk into him. When he was immortal, he'd never seriously pondered things like death, old age or sickness since there was no real need to. It was true that death for an immortal was possible but in order for that to happen it would take a near cataclysmic event, say for example the coming Ragnarok, to truly destroy them. (In his case, diving face-first into a cosmic maelstrom or so he thought) Death, at least for him, was not something to be feared. However, in his current _mortal_ _human_ body...death was now a constant companion along with sickness and old age. The fragility of his new existence was...daunting. Loki admitted to himself that what he...dreaded most was neither death nor sickness...but old age. As a mortal, he could no longer sustain his youthful appearance by eating Iduna's golden apples. The thought of seeing his mortal body slowly wasting away was..._terrifying_.

His eyes caught sight of an old man several meters below him, hobbling along carefully with the assistance of an elaborate, four-footed metal cane that he held before him. From the brightly lit street, Loki could see that the old man had long, shaggy white hair, saggy, wrinkled skin and dirty, disheveled clothing as he walked along the sidewalk with much difficulty. People on the street were giving the old man ample room to move around but were generally avoiding him. It also looked like the man hadn't bathed in months. Were the old and helpless of this world simply left to fend for themselves?

Just behind the rumpled old man was a well-dressed couple. They were happy, holding hands and were similarly advanced in years as the solitary old man that inched along in front of them. When the couple neared him, they too gave him a wide girth when they walked past him. Perhaps the old man was an exception.

"Whatcha looking at?" Bryn asked as she stood beside him on the tips of her toes, looking down at the street below them. When she rolled back on her heels, the top of her head only reached to just below his chin.

From her wet clothes she'd changed into a tight, black, spaghetti-strap tank top and 'Daisy Duke style' beige cargo shorts with rhinestone-accented black Birkenstocks.

"Do you see that old man over there," Loki said, trying to point with his bandaged left hand. "Why is he so dirty and why is everyone avoiding him?"

"Oh," Bryn said sadly. "Poor guy, I think he's homeless."

"Homeless?" Loki asked in confusion. "Why would that man be 'homeless?' Has he not a family to care for him?"

_Why's Adam so upset? Don't they have homeless people in Iceland?_ Bryn thought. "Well, I guess this guy either lost his family or they abandoned him."

_Abandoned?_ It was a word that sent a spear of raw emotion straight into Loki's chest. There was a sickening feeling in his stomach and he suddenly felt lightheaded.

"You all right?" Bryn asked, worriedly. Adam looked like he was about to throw up.

"I just...need to sit down," Loki said faintly as he spun around and promptly sat on the concrete rooftop, looking dazed. "I'm fine...I just...need a moment."

"You...still in pain?" She sat down beside him on the hard concrete.

"The pain from my hand and shoulder is manageable," Loki replied softly.

"I...wasn't talking about...physical pain," Bryn said slowly. _Crap. Can of worms, girl. What am I doing?_

Loki glanced at Brynhild beside him sharply. For a mortal girl, she was surprisingly perceptive. He was normally very adept at disguising how he felt...and yet, oddly enough, his finely honed emotional discipline was slowly eroding in Brynhild's presence. Why _her_? How could this mortal female even begin to comprehend the magnitude of his pain? He was then reminded of Alvis's warning earlier.

"Brynhild?" Loki began, uncertain whether he should ask her but he was curious.

"Just call me Bryn," she said with a smile, "Brynhild was my grandmother's name."

"Very well," Loki confirmed, amused by the human propensity for informal 'nicknames.' He took a slight pause and a deep breath. "Bryn...has something happened to you recently...involving your family?"

"They told you then?" Bryn answered flatly.

"No. It was I that noticed your sadness. Your guardians only hinted at it and Alvis gave me strict warning that it was a 'delicate matter' and if I should ask you, to do so with 'extreme caution.'"

She smiled warmly and hugged her legs to her chin. _They're my 'guardians' now, huh?_

"Yeah, Alvi would say that."

There was a momentary pause.

"I...suppose it's only fair that if you share your pain with me...then perhaps, I could share a little of my pain with you," Loki stated slowly. He reluctantly decided that it was the only effective way to coax her to talk.

Bryn stared at Adam in shock. "Yeah...I guess that's...fair." Her strong curiosity about her handsome Science Experiment's past renewed itself. She felt excited and guilty at the same time. Leaning back on her arms, she stretched out her legs and looked wistfully at the sparsely starred sky wishing she was out in the country, sitting on soft grass, the sky filled with stars too numerous to count. _Where'd that come from?_ She laughed to herself. Why was it that whenever she was near Adam, she thought of the wildest things!

"You want to hear the long or condensed version?" Bryn said, before she lost her nerve. Why was Adam's closeness sparking inside her this weird feeling of trust, compelling her to open up to him? Was it because they'd both recently lost their families to circumstances beyond their control?

"Pardon me?"

"I'm just wondering, you know, to be 'fair', if I should tell you my whole story or not," Bryn replied matter-of-factly. "I mean, let's face it...I hardly know you. I'm not the type to spill the whole can of beans to a total stranger." _Geez, I'm not that desperate for attention._

"I don't follow," Loki said, flabbergasted. He'd read the definition for what Bryn was doing but the art of Earth-speech 'slang' still escaped him. He needed access to a computer to further his research on the subject, preferably his own.

_Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting this guy's a foreigner and takes things literally. He says he's from Iceland, but why does__ the guy talk like Peter O'Toole's understudy from the set of Lawrence of Arabia_, Bryn thought with a laugh.

'Can of beans' aside, Loki noted the first part of what Bryn meant to say. _Clever girl, caught that, did you? _

"I did say, 'in all fairness', hadn't I? Very well. I would very much like to hear the _whole_ story and in turn, I will tell you mine," Loki conceded. "We're curious about each other and one way to improve upon our status as complete strangers is to talk about our pasts."

Bryn tried not to make a face. Adam sounded like one of her professors at Harvard. She then saddened at the memory and swallowed back a lump in her throat.

Loki caught the flash of pain in her eyes and asked gently, "What happened to your family?"

His direct question made her look away and stare up at the night sky.

"My family..." Bryn began, her voice distant, haunted. "Before I lived in San Francisco, I used to live in Somerville, Massachusetts. My parents were both very successful doctors and they owned this gorgeous clinic on the fifteenth floor of a luxury office building in Downtown Boston. My mom, Tania, was a Pediatrician and my dad, Randy, was a Family Physician. Since I was their only child, I had _everything_ I could possibly want or need. Love, stuff, whatever it was, I had it all. Also, my parents made _sure_ I didn't grow up a spoiled brat, either. My life was...welll, _perfect_."

She looked at Adam to emphasize her words with an angry, defiant gleam in her eyes. "I know it's conceited to say, but I don't care coz it's the _truth_." She fought back the tears that threatened to fill her eyes as she looked away and up at the night sky again. "I was studying to become a doctor too. I fast-tracked through high school, graduated with honors and got into Harvard. It was near the end of my second year of Harvard Medical School...when..." Her voice wavered and she choked on a sob.

He felt the raw sting of Bryn's pain and Loki shifted uncomfortably where he sat. Part of him sympathized with the mortal girl. He wasn't a heartless, unfeeling fiend though he had spent a great deal of time splendidly disguised as one.

(Loki had become increasingly silent, secretive and sullen in the time period leading up to Thor's Coronation which was mistakenly interpreted as 'jealously' by Thor's closest friends, particularly by Sif. Moreover, taking into account Loki's recent confrontation with Odin All-Father about the traumatic truth of his _real_ nature, Loki wasn't quite sure of anything anymore.)

Distracted by his own pain, Loki failed to see that both he and Bryn's expressions were exactly alike. They were lost and fragile as a pair butterflies caught in a rainstorm in the wake of tremendous loss and heartache.

"Forgive me, Bryn. It was wrong of me to have pressed you for answers you're clearly not ready to speak of," Loki stated gently, gazing at the sad profile of her face.

"No...it's okay, Adam. I...I _want_ to tell you," Bryn said seriously, meeting Adam's gaze and nearly losing the power of speech in the unfathomable depth of his strangely _ageless_, emerald eyes. Before he'd abruptly looked away she was on the verge of...something. A hidden truth so..._big_...that it seemed almost...incomprehensible. Of course, that was a ridiculous idea altogether. Her mind was so muddled at the moment, it was hedging the border of delusion.

Loki was about to say something when Bryn did it for him, returning to the story of her past. He sat patiently and listened.

"My parent's had been putting off this vacation to visit the Inca ruins of Machu Pichu in Peru for like basically ever. So, finally, near the end of my second year of Harvard Med, they finally went. I wanted to go too but I had to concentrate on my thesis for the school year." She twisted to face Adam. "Have you ever gotten a really bad feeling about something that you can't ignore, but at the same time you can't figure out what the hell it is?"

"All my life..." Loki murmured dejectedly, staring at nothing in particular.

Bryn was too caught up in her own story to note the significance of Adam's softly spoken statement.

"This really bad feeling crept up on me when I waved goodbye to my parents as their plane took off. At the time, I thought I was just being paranoid," Bryn continued then frowned. "All it took was one phone call in the middle of Psychopathology class." She let the overflow of tears fall from her eyes as her lips quivered. "That was it...one fucking phone call and my entire world crashes down around me."

She wiped angrily at the wetness on her cheeks and tried not to sound bitter but a large part of her was still raging at Fate for the sudden death of her parents. "Know what the best part was," she added sarcastically through clenched teeth, "turns out my parents owed the bank a shitload of money and the bank, being the fucking bank, took away _everything!_ Like, what does the bank care if I'm homeless or broke, right? At twenty-fucking-two! If it hadn't been for the spending money I saved up tending bar at the local pub at Harvard, I would've ended up living on the streets of Boston scrounging for food in trash bins or in a halfway house getting gang-raped by crack addicts," she ranted.

Loki's eyes widened at the horrific images Bryn's words had conjured in his mind as he stared appallingly at her. There were many words he'd read in the human Dictionary and Thesaurus that, in his opinion, represented the most vile, repulsively offensive crimes that the barbaric population of Earth inflicted on one another. Foremost among the crimes was - May The Nine Waves Curse Them For All Eternity: pedophiles; along with cold-blooded murderers, mob-lynching, public humiliation and execution, to name a few more. Last, but certainly _not_ the least, was the unforgivable act of rape.

(Sadly, they're just a handful of the injustices and incorrigible crimes of humanity that Loki won't realize the broad scope of until he accesses the internet.)

"I was so devastated and angry that I just wanted to get _away_," Bryn continued. "Get the hell as _far away_ from my old life as I possibly could." She started scratching at the scabs of the healing gashes on her arms. "I used every cent I saved up and bought a first class, one-way ticket to San Francisco." She then grinned triumphantly when she added, "I managed to take one thing with me before I left Massachusetts though. My dad gave me a car, a vintage hotrod that I'm gonna learn to restore and modify someday."

The conspiratorial quality of Bryn's expression thoroughly intrigued Loki.

"It was kind of my personal 'fuck you and thanks for nothing' card I left behind for the bank. I went to my dad's storage garage, drove away in _my_ hotrod and went straight to the airport where a Harvard buddy of mine got me a great deal on cargo prices." Bryn's face lit up with pride. "I even _burnt_ down my dad's garage - I didn't want some fat, slimy bank exec driving around in my dad's favorite car collection that he fixed up and built with his bare hands. Then I took all the documents my dad stored in the safe at home. Good thing he taught me the combo for the safe in case of emergencies. There was some extra money in there too. Anyway, when I landed in San Francisco, I drove around in a daze till the sun went down and stopped my car at Buena Vista Park. I walked around for a bit till I found a bench and sat down." She hugged her legs tightly, her chin on her knees as she spoke softly. "Then it all hit me. That's when I realized that I hadn't really come to terms with what happened to me yet. I broke down right there on a bench in the middle of a public park, surrounded by a city full of strangers in the middle of the night...and that's how Alvi and Mars found me." Her mouth had a small, warm smile. "So, there you have it. That's what happened to my family and how I got here." She turned to Adam and shrugged.

Loki returned Bryn's gaze and stayed silent. The human female had told him quite a tale. It was now his turn to...construct his own...or had he wanted to? He also had the option to tell her the truth in terms she could understand. His internal debate wrangled inconclusively and caused him to unwittingly lean on his injured hand.

"By Odin's Shaggy Old Beard!" Loki cursed loudly in Asgardian. He sat cross-legged staring menacingly at his throbbing hand. Beside him, Bryn laughed herself to pieces. He turned his angry and annoyed gaze on her but instead of instilling fear into the human female, she laughed even harder.

"You...you should...see...your _face_," Bryn burbled out between fits of giggling as she clutched her stomach tightly, lolling clumsily onto her back, tears of mirth glistening at the corners of her eyes. "Like...your hand...broke itself just to...piss you off," she babbled on. The stars above her swam in happy circles, her stomach aching with delight. "It's...the funniest thing...I've ever seen." She broke down into another fit of helpless giggling, drumming her feet on the concrete at irregular intervals.

At the sight of Bryn in such an undignified state, his annoyance and anger gradually faded as Loki's frown turned into a smile, which then became a wide grin as he eventually succumbed to Bryn's infectious laughter.

"How exactly, may I ask, had my face seemed to you?" Loki asked with feigned superiority.

Bryn lay on her back on the hard concrete as she looked at him, wiping at the tears of laughter that had rolled down her cheeks. She basked in the pleasant afterglow of unbridled amusement, something she hadn't felt in a very long time. "Oh, man, my sore gut." She rubbed her stomach to that effect. When she caught the patient, expectant gaze of Adam looking straight at her, she remembered his question and she slowly brought herself to a sitting position. She then tried her best to answer him.

"Well, let's see. What definitely made me lose it was the way you looked at your hand. It's like you were giving it shit for hurting you coz your bones were broken. Anyway, it's kinda like blaming the sky coz it thunder-stormed on your perfect picnic but you already knew the forecast for a high chance of rain before you left the house."

There was a silly grin on her face.

_Is she mocking me?_ Loki thought incredulously, mentally shaking his head. _What a brave and foolish girl._ He then impulsively leaned over and with his soft lips gave her a peck on her left temple.

Bryn instantly stiffened, her entire body tingling like she'd been struck by lightning. Her heart nearly thudded to a halt and she held her breath for a long moment, her mind unsure if she was dreaming. Her eyes cautiously traveled toward Adam's face, who sat beside her with a bemused expression, one eyebrow considerably higher up his forehead. She prayed she wasn't blushing.

Did Hot Guy just - ? So much for her attempt at doctor-patient detachment. Then again, that all-important Number One Rule had been chucked out the window the night she'd brought him home from the dumpster. Also, what the hell was she fussing about anyway? It's not like she was an actual fucking doctor!

Then there was her internal debate about the ambiguity of Adam's sexual preference. She was still gathering evidence. Maybe she could rope Mars into finding out for sure.

"Now it's _you_ with a funny face," Loki commented with a small smile.

"Yeah...um, so...uh, what about you?" Bryn floundered, trying desperately to change the subject. "Can you tell me what happened to _your_ family?" Her face was suddenly serious and filled with curiosity. Okay, she was being a wet blanket, it was childish but she couldn't deal with Adam's electric whatever-it-was-kiss right now.

The former immortal's mood darkened and Loki looked away from Bryn quickly. He took an audible deep breath and a long sigh. "May we move to someplace more comfortable?" He looked in the direction of the pool loungers.

"Sure," Bryn agreed and slowly rose to her feet, stretching to pop a few joints back into place. Adam rose effortlessly and padded toward one of the loungers. She saw that he was barefoot. _Gotta get the poor guy some flip-flops._ Maybe Mars had a new pair lying around somewhere. She'd recently found out that her two guardians had a horde of unused designer clothing and footwear in their master bedroom closet from a few impulse-shopping binges. Mars had laughed when her mouth hung open in reaction to the size of their walk-in closet.

"Um...I'm not _pushing_ you to tell me stuff, am I?" Bryn asked guardedly. Adam clearly wasn't at ease with the subject of his family.

"You've been honest to me about your past, therefore, I shall do the same with mine because no matter the circumstances, I _always_ keep my word," Loki replied softly but firmly as he stood still, looking directly at Bryn.

There was an absolute sincerity to the way Adam spoke. The steady gaze that accompanied what he'd said left no room for doubt in Bryn's mind about the profound _truth_ behind his words.

The minute they'd settled down on their chosen loungers, Bryn turned to look at Adam who'd stood up, pushing his lounger closer to hers with his foot till the hand rests were almost touching and sat back down. When he leaned back to look at the night sky, she was alarmingly aware that only a few centimeters of space separated their hands. She scolded herself for turning into a character from a stupid soap opera.

"Where to begin," Loki replied with a sigh as he stared at the sparsely starred night sky. _Pity...how poorly the stars shine at night, obscured by this city's excessively bright electrical torches._

"So...did you get along well with your family before...the, um...big argument?" Bryn bravely asked.

"Yes. Before the 'big argument' with my father and brother...life with my family was peaceful and loving. I shared a close bond with my mother and it was my older brother who my father...favored. It was only natural, you see. After all, the enormous responsibility of the entire house would eventually fall upon my older brother's shoulders, as is the proper Rite of Succession," Loki explained.

"Rite of Succession? Wow. That sounds serious," Bryn commented. _ Guess they still do that old world family stuff in Scandinavia. Maybe Adam comes from a community of _traditional _Viking revivalists?_

"Yes, it's a very serious matter." There was a sadness to his tone.

"If your dad was grooming your brother to take over...guess there was some tension, huh?"

Loki sniggered. "Tension is an understatement."

"You guys didn't get along at all?"

"It's complicated. Despite our differences and disagreements, my brother and I share an unbreakable bond forged by love and an unconscious understanding of one another. On a whole, Th...we get along." Loki decided that omitting names was prudent and prevented further explanations.

"Okay...if you and your brother got along just fine...what happened?" Bryn asked, encouraged to continue her curious questions as long as Adam wasn't objecting. Glancing at him, he seemed agreeable to her prodding.

"What happened, indeed," Loki said cryptically with a spark of bitterness. "Much like you, a single event changed the course of my life forever. A single event that destroyed my entire world and made me question my very existence. Everything I was taught and everything that I knew...was a _lie_."

_Holy shit._ Bryn turned her head to stare at Adam in disbelief and sympathy.

From the periphery of his vision, Loki knew that the human female was staring at him intently and hoping that he'd elaborate further.

"Um...so...were you like...adopted?" Bryn hazarded a guess.

Chuckling, Loki looked at Bryn with amusement. "Not quite. Much worse than that, I'm afraid." He could feel a budding frustration in her as a result of his obscure answers. "How shall I put this..."

He sat up and turned his body to face her, propping up his left leg and hugging it with his left arm while his right leg extended itself as his foot came to rest on the edge of her lounger. He slowly rubbed his lower lip against the bandaged fingers of his left hand as he contemplated what to say next.

Bryn twisted toward him, leaning most of her weight against her lounger's armrest. He stopped stroking his lip when he'd arrived at a satisfactory explanation.

"Where I come from there are nine large villages. My village, where my family lives, governs the other eight. There is one village where its settlers are very unpleasant and generally disliked by everyone. Every so often, this village enjoys causing trouble and it's up to my father to keep the peace. Then, there came a day when this troublesome village decided to attack, nearly destroying one of the more helpless villages of the eight in the area. Enraged, my father drove the troublemakers back and nearly destroyed them in the process. You can imagine the importance of this responsibility and what my father had been carefully preparing my brother and I for since childhood." When Bryn nodded in rapt attention, he resumed his story. "It was in this troublesome village where the pivotal event in my life took place. However, I'm jaunting ahead."

He turned away and stretched out on his lounger, staring up at the night sky.

"You say your dad 'favored' your older brother but he's been training you _both_ to take over?" Bryn observed.

"Yes and no. My brother and I couldn't be more _different_ for the task," Loki replied. "You see, my elder brother, who was raised with the constant reminder that he was to take over my father's responsibility developed an _arrogance_ unmatched by anyone in all nine villages. He's also emotionally impulsive and idiotically brash, always preferring to think with his fists rather than his head."

"So, you're his polar opposite," Bryn stated.

"Correct. Unlike him, I prefer to step back to assess a conflict determining whether any form of violence is needed at all. Peaceful conclusions are the most amicable and thus the more widely accepted solutions."

"Lemme guess, your brother did something drastic and all hell broke loose," Bryn said, glancing at Adam who hid a small smile.

_With a little help from me, of course._

"Ah, yes, the significant events that culminated in the inevitable 'big argument' which resulted in my current banishment and exile," Loki singsonged sardonically. "It all began on my elder brother's Big Day, you see. Father was so blindly proud to pass on the mantle of leadership to someone as arrogant and stupid as my older brother. I, being the more practical and levelheaded sibling, devised a bit of mischief to delay my brother's ascendance hoping that the day's events finally brought to light for everyone concerned the mistake my father was about to make."

"You didn't," Bryn gasped, her mouth slightly open.

"Oh, I _did,"_ Loki stated with a nod. "During the ceremony I allowed a few willing troublemakers past our defenses from the enemy village to cause a ruckus. It worked splendidly! My brother was so enraged that our enemies ruined his Big Day that he boldly disobeyed father's direct order _not_ to interfere with the standing truce we had with the enemy village. I tried valiantly to discourage my brother but he's annoyingly stubborn. He quickly organized a small war party of four of our best warriors, who conveniently happen to be his best friends. I merely came along as a witness and to make sure that my brazen elder brother didn't foolishly kill himself."

Sitting up abruptly, Loki frowned and turned his head part-way toward his right shoulder. "Don't the two of you know that it's _rude_ to eavesdrop on a private conversation?" he called out loud.

To Bryn's amazement, she saw Alvi and Mars appear timidly from around the corner of a wall on the roof that led to their master bedroom. She agreed with Adam. "How long have the two of you been listening over there?"

"Uh, well...you see, I wasn't too comfortable with leaving you here alone with _him_ so I followed you. Mars saw me and tagged along," Alvi said with a shrug.

"Overprotective much?" Bryn reprimanded as she stood with her arms locked across her chest, staring at Alvi in annoyance when he approached them. "Will you give it a rest already? Adam said he was _sorry_."

"I truly am," Loki added apologetically as he stood to his feet as well.

"Oh, dear, I'll be right back," Mars said when he glanced at Adam's bare feet and left hurriedly.

"Darling, where are you - ?" Alvi called after his spouse as he scratched his head in confusion. He then turned to gaze at Adam directly and found that he was unable to remain angry with their weird guest for much longer. "Fine. _You've_ forgiven him, that's the main thing," he said in Bryn's direction. "Unfortunately, our Bryn here has a nasty knack for taking home unsavory men," he pointed out, addressing Adam.

"Fucking fabulous, fairy godmother, for magically turning me into a cheap whore," Bryn retorted testily through her teeth.

"Oh, Good Lord," Alvis muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"She speaks rather strong language for a lady," Loki remarked with amused disapproval.

"Don't _you_ fucking start," Bryn glared, rounding on Adam, hands on her hips.

"That's our Bryn," Mars appeared and shook his head, tossing a pair of black Birkenstocks by Adam's feet. "She's got a nasty temper too. I'll apologize for her in advance."

"Excuse me while I go jump naked into the pool," Bryn replied sarcastically.

"You will?" Loki replied with interest as he looked eagerly in her direction.

"Oh, my God," Bryn declared with a roll of her eyes as she threw her hands up in exasperation, turning away dramatically from all three men.

"She'll be back," Alvi replied nonchalantly. "I'm sorry we eavesdropped on you, Adam, but since Mars and I did, I can't help noticing some _disturbing_ details about your story. 'Villages?' 'Warriors?' 'Rite of Succession?' Pardon me for saying so but it's positively _Medieval_, even for Iceland."

"As I've told you before, I had an _eccentric_ upbringing," Loki reminded him. "The villages where I come from thrive self-sufficiently in a very remote region."

"A part of some twisted cult, are you?" Alvi persisted tactlessly.

"I think I would've noticed the rivers of blood by now from all the puppies and kittens he's been sacrificing," Bryn countered acridly.

"That's _enough_, both of you. You're embarrassing yourselves," Mars admonished firmly when he saw Adam's flummoxed face. "Let's all have a seat and play nice. I want to hear the rest of Adam's story." He pulled another lounger perpendicular to Adam's and Bryn's and sat down, neatly crossing his legs. "Please, continue. I think it's fascinating."

"I..." Loki said, glancing in Bryn's direction.

"Bryn, dear, have a seat. Don't you want Adam to finish his story?" Mars asked.

"Course I do," Bryn replied, tossing her footwear aside and flopping down on her lounger while glaring daggers at Alvi who hovered nearby. "Adam and I were doing just fine before you guys showed up."

_Such a bizarre trio, these modern humans_, Loki thought to himself as he sat down. "These are comfortable on my feet, by the way," he stated gratefully to Mars, indicating the new footwear he'd been given.

"I'm just glad they fit you," was his reply, smiling shyly.

"Maybe we can pretend they're not here," Bryn said out loud with a childish pout. She'd thoroughly enjoyed having Adam to herself earlier and wasn't too thrilled with having to share him right now.

"It's quite all right, Bryn. I don't mind the extra company," Loki mollified, smiling. "Having the _three_ of you present saves me the trouble of repeating myself."

"You stopped at the part where your older brother organized a 'war-party' to attack the enemy village without your father's consent," Mars supplied helpfully. "Awfully stupid of your brother, if you ask me," he added.

Loki chuckled at the comment. "It gets better." He was suddenly reminded of a memory from his youth of him sitting in the middle of a small crowd of children. They were staring at him in wide-eyed attention while he enthusiastically narrated tales of his outrageous adventures which included his brother Thor, Sif and The Warriors Three. He was visiting the Realm of Vanaheim...and a little girl with large, sparkling violet-blue eyes was smiling brightly up at him, nestled contentedly in his lap as he played with the platinum-blonde curls of her hair.

..._Sigyn_...

"Adam?" Bryn asked nervously. This was the second time tonight he looked ill enough to throw up. Mars and Alvi were similarly concerned.

"I...where were we?" Loki said offhandedly, still distraught from the powerful onslaught of long suppressed memories.

_Little_ _Sigyn...have you at last returned from your long absence? Alas, upon your Homecoming, I shall not be there to greet you. Please, forgive me, Dearest One._

"Maybe we can finish your story tomorrow?" Bryn suggested.

"I'm fine. Whatever it was has past," Loki spoke with a wan smile and a slight pause. "Nevertheless, shouldn't you three be taking advantage of my mood to talk?" he added playfully, forcing himself to feel better.

"Not at the expense of your health," Bryn stated.

"I shall not be dropping dead as of yet," Loki teased.

"_Not_ funny," Bryn replied, crossing her arms tightly.

"Ssshhh! I want to hear more of Adam's story," Mars replied, wiggling on his lounger like an excited little boy. "Would you _please_ continue?"

"How can I refuse such exuberance?" Loki remarked with a smile that nearly made Mars blush. Alvi sat himself on the same lounger near his life-partner and relaxed on his side with an arm propping his head, a look of skepticism on his face. "Now that everyone's settled again..." he resumed, ignoring the look on Alvi's face.

"Before our war-party could leave our village we had to walk past our Gatekeeper. He's an intimidating mountain of a thing, one could say he was born and bred for such a purpose. I pretended to persuade the Gatekeeper to let our war-party pass but I had secretly conveyed a message to one of my village's guards to send to our father warning him of my older brother's unwise decision."

"Hold on. Why the hell would you do _that_? You just _sabotaged_ yourself there," Bryn interrupted, confused. "Shouldn't you be, I dunno, covering your tracks?"

"We were all in violation of a _strict_ edict of truce between our village and that of our enemies. It was only proper that my father was informed of this. We deserved to be _punished_ for our completely inappropriate transgression," Loki replied solemnly. "Our laws were integral to the peace and safety of every living being that dwelled within the nine villages. To endanger that balance is malicious and reprehensible."

"If that were true...wasn't it _you_ who ruined that balance, Adam, by allowing your enemies into your village?" Alvi interjected calmly, receiving glares of disapproval from Mars and Bryn.

"Yes, I did," Loki unhesitatingly admitted. "However, openly declaring war on our enemies that day was _never_ my intention." He locked stares with Alvi for a moment.

"Go on," Alvi insisted. Mars and Bryn exchanged uneasy glances.

Unperturbed by Alvi's attitude, Loki resumed his story. "When our war-party arrived in the midst of our enemies, I tried again, however futile, to convince my brother of the foolishness of his actions. For a moment, he relented. We then turned to leave and nearly avoided conflict...until one of our enemies taunted my brother...and that was that." He sighed. "We fought valiantly but there were simply too many of them."

"I can't believe you willingly participated in a _suicide_ mission, Adam! Also, _why_ would your own brother endanger your lives so carelessly like that?" Alvi contested. "A s_ix_ person 'war-party' against an _entire_ enemy village? Preposterous!"

"You underestimate the bloodlust my brother and his friends possess, Alvis," Loki replied evenly. "On that day, my brother's anger was great enough that he may very well have killed half the population of that enemy village _singlehandedly_."

"So much for your laws of peace and safety," Alvi commented disdainfully. "How could murder on such a scale be permissible," he replied with rising anger. _What the hell kind of place did this man come from? It's like he came straight out of the Dark Ages!_

"Oh, there were grave consequences for our actions that day, I assure you," Loki refuted. "Let me answer Bryn's earlier question first on whether I was...'adopted.'" He turned to her specifically. "Sometime during the conflict, Bryn...I was grappling with one of our enemies who then appeared to have..._recognized_ me," he paused with a frown.

Her eyes widened as he turned away.

Loki calmly kept speaking. "Eventually, we were surrounded by our enemies with no hope of escape...but we were spared by the timely arrival of our father. You can imagine how immensely displeased and disappointed he was...particularly with my older brother. As the imminent heir to the ruling village, my older brother had set a very bad example. Naturally, angry words were exchanged between my brother and my father which resulted in my brother's banishment from our village. He was stripped of his title, armor and his weapon and cast out to fend for himself beyond our walls at the mercy of a wild, untamed frontier." His expression had become reflective as the humans remained silent, mulling over his words.

"How were you and your brother's friends punished then?" Alvi asked curiously.

"We were confined to our chambers and prohibited from leaving the village unless authorized by my father directly," Loki answered.

Alvi then muttered something about the punishment being 'too lenient.'

Ignoring the comment, Loki looked up at the night sky and saw the bright trail of a small meteorite as it skidded across the planet's atmosphere.

"Adam, if it was your _brother_ who got thrown out, how'd you end up here?" Bryn asked.

"I was getting to that," Loki said patiently. "After some time had past, my older brother eventually returned from his exile in uncharted territory a _changed_ man and welcomed back into the fold." He paused then looked pointedly toward Bryn. "Do you recall what I told you about someone from the enemy village recognizing me?" She nodded. "I decided to confront my father about that incident." His face darkened. "_This_ is what he told me: long ago, on the day when he'd fought back and nearly destroyed the enemy village, in the rubble and chaos, he found a baby. He claimed that the baby was 'abandoned, suffering and left to die,' but that baby belonged to the ruling family of the enemy village."

His face grew harder as a deep frown slowly formed. Great bitterness and anger coated his words. "He'd taken that baby and raised him as his own son in the hope that one day that boy would be the key to bringing about an 'alliance' and his dream of 'permanent peace' between us and the enemy village." He paused and snickered. "After that pivotal revelation, my so-called father looked me straight in the eyes and said: '_those plans no longer matter_.'"

He gritted his teeth and thundered, "My entire existence was nothing more than a fleeting whim in a foolish old man's fantasy!" He'd spat the sentence out with venomous contempt.

When Loki heard the humans gasp with sympathy and shock, he turned away and closed his eyes, leaning heavily against the lounger, unwilling to see the infuriating pity that was sure to be on their faces. He didn't want their pathetic human pity! What he _wanted_ was the location of his enchanted armor and the restoration of his lost immortality! He wanted to find Thor's human woman, Jane, to discover how she'd bewitched his brother, transforming him into the soft, considerate idiot he was now!

He wanted...

"_Now_ I understand why you tried to kill yourself," Alvi spoke slowly and softly, then added rather dramatically, "I for one am glad you hadn't succeeded."

This made Loki open his eyes to stare at Alvis, their faces equally neutral. He was rather surprised to find a certain weariness in the human male's eyes that he hadn't noticed before. A weariness that hinted at a past filled with great pain. What had this human done to create such an inky shadow in the depths of his dark blue gaze?

"Ah, but is it for the best that I survived, I wonder?" Loki doubted casually.

"You wanna go _kill_ yourself so badly?" Bryn exploded as she stood up, glaring at Adam and kicking his lounger roughly with her foot. "We're on the roof. Be my fucking guest and take a swan-dive." She pointed to the nearest ledge with a sneer and stomped off toward the master bedroom en-suite door that led to their penthouse suite. "See if I give a shit."

Astounded by Bryn's reaction, Loki followed the fiery human female's retreat from the rooftop. Her outburst reminded him of Odin's Valkyries. _I daresay she'd fit right in as shield-maiden were she an immortal_, he mused.

"Sorry about that. I'll go after her," Marius volunteered quietly and stood up to follow Bryn.

Sighing, Alvis leaned back on his lounger, rubbing his face with his hands. "Brynnie, _Brynnie_, Lord in Heaven that girl's temper...among other things." He chuckled softly for a moment then frowned. "When Mars and I first found her, poor girl was a mess. Of course, there was absolutely no way we'd leave her sobbing her eyes out in the middle of a public park in the dead of night. So, after some convincing - mostly by Mars, he can be very persuasive - she agreed to follow us home. After a large pot of hot tea, my homemade cookies and a party-size bottle of Jack Daniels, she told us what happened to her. Mars and I were heartbroken and we both immediately decided that we'd do everything in our power to help her."

He turned his head to look at Adam and was pleased to see that he was listening intently. "I have a feeling a majority of Bryn's negative qualities stem from the sudden, traumatic loss of her parents and the total obliteration of her entire life as she knew it. She's more vulnerable than she lets on, quick to lash out in anger and tends to push away whoever shows her genuine affection but clings to those who generally abuse her." He sighed heavily and said worriedly, "That's what frightens me the most. The last man she was with almost beat her to death."

Seeing the stunned expression on Adam's face, Alvis shrugged and added, "Sadly, you're not the only one with a monopoly on suicidal tendencies around here. We all do, I'm afraid. Though, varying degrees of it."

"What? _Explain_ this," Loki replied, brows crunching, clearly puzzled. It was confusing enough for the former immortal to have told the humans the _truth_ - at least, in terms they could comprehend - about the circumstances that led him to be in their midst...but to have his pain reflected back at him by mortals who appear to have survived their own mysterious tragedies...it was a phenomenon he hadn't expected at all!

"Since you were gracious enough to talk to us about your strange origins, Adam, I believe it's only fair that Mars and I share ours with you. Although, you'd best hear Mars's story from Mars himself. I'm assuming Bryn's told you about her past?"

"Yes. She spoke to me earlier, sharing the details of...how she lost her parents," Loki answered carefully.

"I see," Alvis said sadly and indicated the empty lounger beside Adam with a nod of his head. "May I?"

"This _is_ your home," Loki remarked with a small smile. He watched Alvis Werner get up to stretch, sauntering over to the lounger next to him and sat down.

Leaning back, Alvis looked up at the night sky, his hands interlocked, tucked at the back of his head. "I grew up in a place called Gracetown in the westernmost part of Australia. I'd wander off by myself for hours when I was a lad, playing along the beach till it got dark and it scared the living hell out of my parents. For the life of me, I never understood why I took such fiendish delight in making them miserable. Always got into loads of trouble. Drove my parents to their wits end. That's why they shipped me off to England to live with my uncle, my mum's older brother. He used to be in the military and they thought he'd be the best person for the job of trying to straighten me out. I had just turned fifteen at the time." He snickered. "If only my parents knew how _wrong_ they were."

He shifted, his arms draping the lounger's arm rests. "Uncle Marty...the man turned out to be as fucking bent as a French whore on a Friday night. I can still remember the mortified look on his face when I walked in on him one night dressed as Marilyn Monroe. He wore silk stockings, a wig, make-up, the whole kitten-caboodle." He chuckled. "Thinking about it makes me laugh every time." He hadn't bothered to check on Adam's reaction. "Without the slightest idea of the scope of his actions, the silly bastard had opened my eyes to a world no impressionable fifteen year old boy should _ever_ be exposed to. After I'd seen him in such a state, there was no real sense in him hiding his true tendencies anymore. He'd walk around the house in women's clothing, took me to parties with his transvestite friends, underground transsexual theatre, burlesque cabarets, drag-queen variety shows, the whole nine yards. It was a crazy year I'll never forget."

He sunk down into the soft cushion of the outdoor lounger. "When I hit sixteen, Uncle Marty enrolled me into the boarding school he was sent to when he was a boy. He said it was 'a place where boys were turned into men.' Obviously, the place hadn't worked on him but it was a good school with a good reputation and many of its graduates went on to become successful in their chosen careers, many in the military. I raced through my academics, got good grades, graduated with honors and, being the naive and adventurous lad that I was, went straight into the military."

He turned and looked sincerely at Adam who returned his gaze with equal intensity. "Some of the things I'm about to tell you, Adam, even Mars doesn't know too much about. You strike me as the sort to keep a secret, so I'm trusting you not to tell anyone. Even Bryn, but most especially _not_ Mars. He's a darling man and I love him with all my heart, so I'd rather not have him worrying about me anymore than he needs to."

"You have my word that whatever you say here will be strictly between us," Loki promised solemnly.

Though satisfied by Adam's formal oath, Alvi continued to stare at the handsome, fair-skinned man seated beside him.

"You doubt my promise to you?" Loki replied, rather offended.

"Oh, no, no. Nothing like that. I just find it _weird_ that I trust you this much. I'm not exactly the type to bare it all to total strangers, you know. This moment's a bit of a breakthrough for me," Alvi said with interest.

"Likewise," Loki answered with a shrug. "I suppose...having the three of you caring for me as generously you do...changes things somewhat."

"I suppose it does," Alvi said with a small smile and leaned back against his lounger. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes. My adventures in the military. What's there to say, really? I had the desire to 'Be All I Can Be' and in my case, I aimed for the Royal Air Force to become a pilot. To my delight, I discovered I was rather good at it. I flew fighter planes, cargo freighters, attack helicopters, took part in rescue operations and reconnaissance missions. When I retired my wings, I dove into Weapons System Operations. Being as ambitious as I was, I inevitably caught the attention of the brass and was recruited into Special Forces for the Royal Marines. Found out I was jolly good at that too. I was a bit mad in those days."

He chuckled. "Most of the covert operations my squad was involved in were peacekeeping missions. Some were fairly routine...others, not so much." He could feel Adam staring steadily at him. "I'm not proud of some of the things I did...but it was necessary at the time. I retired from the military when I hit thirty-three but now I realize that I waited too long. I'd gone through the worst experiences of my life on active duty in parts of Africa and that's when I knew I'd had enough."

Alvis paused and shuddered, his chest tightening with sorrow. He hadn't realized that he'd clenched his fists so tightly, his knuckles had turned white; nearly jumping out of his skin when he felt a bandaged hand had heavily rested itself atop his. When he glanced toward Adam, the beautiful man's steadfast gaze seemed to steady his frazzled nerves. Smiling shakily, he placed his free hand on top of Adam's bandaged one, patting it awkwardly. "Thank you," he said softly and was surprised when Adam smiled slightly at him and leaned back, his left hand remaining where it was. He stared at Adam's bandaged hand for a long moment, grateful that it stayed on his. It was sending him the encouragement he needed to continue with his story. Clearing his throat, he narrated on.

"The things I've seen in Africa...they'll give me nightmares till the day I die. Poor Mars has to live with me waking up screaming some nights. Sweet, tender chap. He'll sit up with me for as long as I need and talk to me till I fall asleep again. He'll sing to me on the worst nights...even if he has no idea where my nightmares really come from," Alvi sighed. "I've led him to believe that I was more of a Reserve Pilot for the RAF. He has no knowledge of my recruitment into Special Forces. Every so often...I take trips out of town to do my 'trade' for a network of contacts. I've disguised the trips as special scavenger hunts to find rare items I need for the club so he won't get too suspicious. Technically, I'm retired...but having friends with benefits is hard to resist."

He had a sad and guilty expression. "Mars has a gentle, angelic soul with a childlike innocence and carefree naiveté I _treasure_ just as deeply as the flesh that houses it. I know I'm being dreadfully selfish and I loathe having to keep secrets from Mars but I wish to _protect_ him. I can't bare spoiling him with my war-stories of absolute horror...or by telling him of my dangerous side trips."

"That's perfectly understandable," Loki agreed, squeezing Alvi's hand slightly.

"You'll tell me if Mars is around, won't you? I'd hate for him to eavesdrop on _this_ conversation," Alvi said nervously.

"I will," Loki reassured him.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, Alvi calmed by the reassuring touch of their handsome guest, Loki staring at the night sky.

"What horrors have you seen, if I may be so bold to ask," Loki spoke, breaking the stillness.

"You _really_ want to know?" Alvi glanced at Adam with hesitation.

"I do," Loki replied firmly, turning his head and looking steadily at Alvis beside him.

"Sure, if you can handle it, why the hell not," Alvi conceded with a sigh, pausing for a few moments. "It's a bunch of bollocks, really, being a soldier. They train you for the mechanics of combat but never prepare you for the psychological consequences of the damage you sustain afterward. They train you to kill in all sorts of deadly, efficient ways with cardboard cutouts and virtual war-games, brainwashing you into hating your imaginary enemies with extreme prejudice. The _real_ test comes on the day when you actually _take a life_ and find out _exactly_ _how_ _that_ _feels_. Oh, they train you how to blot out your emotions, to feel indifferent towards the whole nasty affair of killing other people...but only the ones whose souls are irreparably evil are the ones that revel in death and destruction. I've met those kinds of men. Even killed two or three at a time when the opportunity presented itself - my personal job satisfaction right there," he snickered darkly. "I think the _worst_ part of being a soldier is getting involved in the chaos of _war_. War is merciless, senseless and savage. The victims that suffer most aren't the armies that clash at each other from both sides of the fence...it's the civilians caught in the middle. Men, women, the elderly and...oh, Merciful God in Heaven, the _children_."

Loki saw the man's quaking left hand as it ran briskly along his face and hair, his lower lip quivering. He tightened his grip on Alvi's right hand, ignoring the twinges of pain from his sore, bandaged fingers.

"There were rows and rows of them...all lined up against buildings...their little heads laying in their laps...their little hands cut off and resting beside them..." Alvi whispered with a sepulchral expression, his voice wavering as he relived the most horrible experience he had while stationed in Africa. "Complete _monsters!_ Horrific creatures so _evil_ that they'd murder little children!"

Very unexpectedly, he felt the strong grip of Adam's bandaged hand on his. "Adam?"

Alvis Werner pushed his own distraught emotions aside to examine the younger man seated next to him with concern. Adam's eyes were glazed, distant and there was a look of sheer horror on his face.

"_Adam_," he called out loudly but there was still no response. Tears had now gathered in the handsome man's emerald-green eyes as they overflowed and trailed down his unblemished cheeks. The bandaged grip on his right hand began to hurt. "Adam!"

Was their guest having another psychotic episode triggered by the horror he'd just described? Fuck!

Cursing audibly, Alvis stood from his lounger, twisting his right hand carefully so he wouldn't further injure Adam's bandaged one which had latched onto him like a manacle. He sat facing the younger man on the lounger who was now mumbling something with his lips that he couldn't interpret. Reaching out with his left hand, he grasped part of Adam's face, shaking and smacking him, forcing him to look in his direction. "Adam!"

"Am I a monster?" Loki whispered, his eyes glazed and glistening with tears. "_Am_ I a monster?" He repeated again, his voice whimpering softly like a child lost in the dark.

"What are you going on about?" Alvi declared loudly, shaking and slapping Adam more roughly this time, hoping to rouse the younger man from the mental fugue he seemed disturbingly mired in. Adam was looking straight at him but the green glaze of his blank stare told him that whoever Adam was _seeing_ clearly wasn't him! "Adam, come on now. Snap out of it!" He shook him roughly again.

"Am I a _monster_, Father?" Loki whispered distantly, confirming Alvi's fears. "_Why_ did you take me?"

Alvis watched as Adam's face contorted into one of pure pain and suffering. He cursed softly in reaction to it. His fingers wandered to the back of Adam's head as he gripped the man's black hair to steady himself. Shivers of fear ran up and down his spine which twisted his stomach into knots, the frighteningly icy, unhinged gaze from Adam's incredibly green eyes were almost _predatory_...and genuinely _unnatural_.

"Why did you _take_ me?" Loki's voice rose steadily, almost desperately. "You should have left me there to _die_, you stupid, old fool!"

The bandaged hand still manacled to his, Alvis watched helplessly in wide-eyed anxiety as Adam crumpled into a ball on the lounger, keening and weeping uncontrollably.

* * *

><p>The forty-five minute drive back to Stark mansion was quiet, awkward and tense. Jane had clammed up since she'd walked out of the restaurant, stubbornly refusing to say another word to anyone.<p>

Confused and frustrated, Tony Stark drove down Pacific Coast Highway One in record speed, Darcy clinging to whatever she could hold on to in the back seat.

"What have I _done_, Jane? Can you, please_,_ talk to me?" Stark tried again, glancing at her seated beside him. She refused to meet his gaze, staring resolutely out the Porsche Panamera's tinted windows. He sighed heavily.

As soon as the Panamera Turbo S slowed to a stop at the mansion, Jane left the vehicle and slammed the door behind her, briskly walking toward the house's main entrance.

Stark chased after her, grabbed her arm and spun her around. "Talk to me!"

"Why the hell did you invite me here_?_ Huh? _Why_?" Jane yelled at him. "Don't tell me it's about my research because it sure as hell isn't!"

Visibly deflating, Stark scratched the back of his head and stuck his hands in his pant pockets.

"You're right...I shouldn't have misled you the way I did...but it was the only way I could get you over here to meet you in person." He fidgeted uncomfortably where he stood. "I _like_ you, Jane Foster. I think you're brilliant, totally underestimated by everyone, _especially_ by S.H.I.E.L.D. and I want to _help_ you in any way that I can to further your research. You're onto something _big_. You've had _first_ _contact_ with immortal beings from another universe and you're the only scientist in your field of study who can prove it." He heard someone sharply clearing their throat. "I'm sorry, you and your lovely assistant Darcy here."

Jane was struggling with what to say. There were too many emotions in her head simultaneously trying to gain control of her mouth. Stark's direct offer to help her with her research was a dream come true. With the man's nearly unlimited and uncensored resources, she was sure to make unprecedented progress. At the same time, Stark's confession that he 'liked' her wasn't sitting too well with her.

"Are...are you _serious_ about helping me with my research?" Jane ventured to ask.

"Completely," Stark replied, gazing steadily at her.

The sincerity in Stark's eyes was unnerving and it made Jane queasy.

"Since we're being honest with each other...there's something you should know," Jane began but was unsure how to continue. Stark looked puzzled again. "There's a...a very _personal_ side to my research that only Darcy and I know about. It's the only thing that's giving me the strength to keep trying...to keep searching for the answers I need."

She paused, swallowing thickly. "I'm...I'm in love with Thor," she confessed as tears filled her eyes and she quickly turned from Stark, running away and disappearing into the mansion.

Flabbergasted, Stark turned to Darcy who bit her lip, the two of them openly staring at each other for a long, silent moment. When he finally spoke, he floundered like a fish.

"She's...with _who_?"

* * *

><p>Feeling calmer, Bryn took a deep breath and hugged Mars tightly. They sat together facing each other on the penthouse condo's living room sofa, a red box of three-ply facial tissue on the coffee table with several used pieces wadded in a heap beside it.<p>

"You always know the right stuff to say to shut me up," she whispered affectionately, her words muffled by having her face pressed against Mars's shoulder. "Sorry, I'm such a bitch."

"Listen, I'm just as upset about what Adam said as you are...but I didn't exactly go off in a fit about it either," Mars replied with a small smile. He stroked her hair gently with both hands, tucking her long auburn strands behind her shoulders. He always thought it was a wonderful coincidence that they had similar hair, both in care type and color. "You know, if I ever wanted a daughter, she'd be just like you."

"Hey...careful what you wish for," Bryn teased. "I'm not exactly all sunshine and roses these days. More like defective merchandise. If I were you, I'd be getting a refund."

"Oh, tut-tut," Mars admonished. "Stop being so hard on yourself. It doesn't do you or any of us any good." Sighing, he kissed her on the forehead, cupping her face gently in his hands. "Alvi and I both love you, Brynnie. We're _always_ here for you, no matter what."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Bryn replied sadly.

"Oh, dearie," Mars whispered back, embracing her warmly, gently rocking them back and forth. "Come on, let's go check on Adam and Vivi."

"Okay."

They stood up and walked the short distance to the master bedroom en-suite. The minute Mars opened the insulated door that led to their rooftop pool - the door was wonderfully disguised as part of their en-suite's decor - they were greeted by a disturbingly creepy, keening noise.

"What the fuck is that?" Bryn exclaimed as she and Mars ran hurriedly outside.

The sight that greeted them made them teeter to a halt.

Alvi sat facing Adam on a lounger and was struggling with something. Adam was curled into a ball and making the awful keening noise.

"He's having another episode!" Alvi yelled at them. "Help me get him off me!" He tried to lift up his right hand which had turned purple from Adam's manacled grip.

Mars immediately tried to help Alvi carefully pry off the bandaged fingers that were persistently latched to him while Bryn grabbed the sides of Adam's face, forcing him to look at her.

"Adam?" Bryn's spine shuddered and her skin crawled in reaction to the _unnaturally_ hollow look in her strange patient's eyes. It was the same look of desolate despair she saw that night in her basement apartment during Adam's first and extremely violent psychotic episode. _Shit. Am I gonna have to sedate him again? _"Alvi, what happened?"

"We were just _talking_," Alvi struggled to say as he and Mars tried desperately to budge the stiff fingers of Adam's hand, whose grip was surprisingly strong given their condition. "I think it's my fault. I must've said something that triggered this."

"What the hell were you two talking about then?" Bryn asked in disbelief.

"Uh..." Alvi refused to meet her gaze.

"Alvi?" Bryn called out angrily.

"Later! Let's sort this out first!" Alvis replied in frustration, then added, "I think Adam's reliving the awful confrontation he had with his father." _Poor bloke._

Bryn ran through terminology from her Psychopathology class trying to determine the exact condition that was consistent with Adam's behavior during his attacks of severe psychosis. Nursing a physically injured man was one thing but taking on the responsibility of caring for a potentially dangerous and mentally ill person was another. It wasn't just her safety at stake now, either. She watched worriedly as Alvi and Mars tried unsuccessfully to detach Adam's clamped, bandaged hand.

The pair exchanged glances appearing to have read Bryn's troubled expression.

"We'll sort this out _together_, Bryn, don't worry. We won't be secretly shipping Adam off to the hospital without your consent," Alvis replied, then shrugged rather sheepishly. "Mars and I have grown much too fond of our weird guest here for that to happen...and we know you have too."

Smiling with relief, Bryn returned to the urgent problem of trying to return Adam to the senses of his Present. The keening noise had stopped, replaced by a continuous flurry of mumbled words in a language she presumed was Icelandic. Tears streamed in glistening rivulets down his smooth cheeks, some of which trickled down to his chest as errant droplets soaked his pants and parts of the lounger.

"Adam?" Bryn spoke calmly, sitting partly on the lounger beside him, her hands gripping the sides of his face as she tried to reclaim his gaze. "I know you're in there. I _know_ you can hear me and I know some of the terrible stuff you've been through. You told me so yourself."

She stroked his face gently with her thumbs. "Hey, guy, welcome to the club. You couldn't have picked a crazier bunch of people to end up with. You, me, Alvi, Mars...we're all damaged goods. I guess it doesn't matter what part of the world we come from or how we're raised...shit just happens."

Her own tears were flowing down her cheeks. "I know it feels really bad right now. Believe me I _know_. I'm not gonna pretend that dealing with any of it will be easy, either. Dealing with tragedy would be hard for any of us...and I'm still working through the worst of mine." She began stroking Adam's hair, wiping the flowing tears from his cheeks and touching parts of his face slowly, much like how her mother used to do to her when she was upset. "Come on, Adam, will you let us help you? Will you let us help you work through the worst of it? Please? Can you hear me, Adam? _Please?"_

Leaning forward, Bryn embraced the distraught man tightly, cradling Adam's head on her left shoulder, rocking them back and forth. Channeling her late mother, she crooned her rendition of 'Blue Moon' by Ella Fitzgerald(*), her mother's favorite song, which her parents also played at their wedding dance. Pouring all her sadness and hope (and love) into the melody, she closed her eyes and sang as she stroked Adam's black hair.

Blue moon, you saw me standing alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own

Blue moon, you knew just what I was there for

You heard me saying a prayer for

Someone I really could care for

And then there suddenly appeared before me

The only one my arms will ever hold

I heard somebody whisper, 'Please, adore me.'

And when I looked the moon had turned to gold

Blue moon, now I'm no longer alone

I have a dream in my heart

I have a love of my own

"Brynnie...it's _working_," Alvi said in awe, feeling the pressure of Adam's fingers slowly unclasping from around his hand. He quickly wiggled free, wincing when his circulation came rushing back in a tidal wave of pins and needles.

Mars had been wiping at the tears in his eyes, deeply moved by the scene before him of Bryn bravely singing - and wonderfully too - such a timelessly classic song.

Locked together closely in a tight embrace, Bryn felt every twitch and movement Adam made as he slowly regained his composure. She felt his left arm rise from his side to encircle her back briefly, his bandaged fingers reaching up to wipe his face. His head rested on her shoulder for a long moment before he slowly turned to look around.

"What...has happened..." Adam spoke, his voice hoarse. "Bryn?"

Pushing Adam away from her gently, Bryn's hands cupped the sides of his face, her face brightening with a wide smile of relief. "Hey, you. Welcome back."

"...where did I _go_?" Adam asked carefully. He was clearly perplexed when he wiped the wetness from his cheeks, felt the rawness of his throat and wondered at the intensity of the throbbing pain from his bandaged left hand.

"Well, let's just say your body stayed put but your mind went on a bit of a vacation," Alvi replied with a slight chuckle. Mars smacked him hard on the arm.

The three of them watched as Adam seemed to seriously consider the words Alvis had spoken. His brows then gradually crunched together and he began to look visibly upset.

"...why can't I remember what happened to me?" Adam asked, a rising panic in his voice. "What do you _mean_ my mind _'went on a bit of a vacation?'"_

"Calm down, Adam," Alvi assuaged him. "You went through what any normal human being does when they've experienced something deeply traumatic in their lives and are having trouble coping with it. Mars and I can tell you all sorts of stories. We've been in the thick of them." His spouse nodded emphatically in agreement.

Slumping back heavily against the lounger, Adam closed his eyes and tried rubbing his temples with his injured fingers. He looked exhausted.

"Hey, it's late. We should be getting to bed," Alvi said, staring at his watch.

"Come on, I'll make us a pot of Chamomile with honey and lemon. That should put us all in a good mood," Mars suggested. They all looked toward Adam who shrugged noncommittally.

"Need a hand getting up?" Bryn offered, noting Adam's haggard expression.

When he nodded slightly, they helped him to his feet, the four of them quietly leaving the rooftop and back into the cozy but elegant decor of their penthouse suite.

* * *

><p>"Wait, wait, wait," Stark said, his mind refusing to comprehend Darcy's explanation. "Are you telling me...that Jane...is in <em>love<em>...with Thor, the mythical Norse god of thunder?" When Darcy simply nodded, he took another long drink from his bottle of Wild Turkey whiskey.

"Except, he's not exactly mythical anymore. I met him in the flesh too," Darcy replied. She tried not to swoon at the memory of a beautifully muscled, bare-chested Thor in tight, black jeans.

"Uh-huh."

"I tell ya, Thor started out pretty messed up and all high-and-mighty. I even Tasered him when we first met after Jane hit him with the van," Darcy recalled, feeling giddy. "Me. Darcy Lewis, Political Science Major taking down Thor, mighty Norse god of thunder with a Taser!" When she giggled, Stark stared at her in disbelief. "What? It's no different from me watching Tony Stark, billionaire extraordinaire, who also happens to be the famous super-hero Iron Man, getting hammered in his basement in front of me."

"I guess not." Stark took another drink.

"Sir, I think you've had quite enough whiskey. You blood alcohol levels have exceeded their optimum limit for a satisfactory buzz. To push that limit would result in a very embarrassing display of public lewdness in front of your guest," Jarvis the super-computer explained in his pleasant British accent.

"What he said," Darcy replied, shrugging. She watched Stark make a face as he reluctantly pushed away his mostly emptied bottle of Wild Turkey whiskey. "Your really like Jane, don't you?"

"Gee, what gave that away?" Stark said, slumping deeply into the leather couch of his basement's corner den.

"The way you've been looking at her, for starters, and the way you've totally been catering to her the minute she got here," Darcy answered. "I think it's sweet."

"Not for lack of trying. Besides, I've never been shot down by a girl in love with an immortal thunder god before. Kinda kills my self-confidence, y'know?" Stark replied.

"I really shouldn't be telling you this...now that you're drunk and all. You won't even remember a word of it," Darcy sighed.

"Tell me what?" Stark asked curiously.

"I'll wait till your sober," Darcy insisted, standing up to leave.

"Tell me _what_?" Stark whined as he tried to get up, only to stumble back when he lost his balance and slid down the side of the couch.

"Jarvis, you better lock down the basement before he _really_ embarrasses himself," Darcy instructed as she gripped the metal handle of the exit's Plexiglass door.

"Hey, wait, you can't do that," Stark complained, trying to claw his way up to stand using the couch.

"Don't let him get his hands on any more hard liquor and especially car keys," Darcy added. "Oh, yeah, and absolutely _no_ joy-ridding in his Iron Man suit either."

"Jarvis! Don't you dare! Don't you listen to _her_," he whined again, reuniting with the floor.

"Will do, Darcy," Jarvis confirmed cheerfully, ignoring Tony Stark's protests. "Good night."

"Night, Jarvis," Darcy replied, walking through the Plexiglass door and up the winding stone steps to the mansion's main living room, the basement door's mechanism behind her securing itself with a soft click.

* * *

><p>Loki slowly sipped the steaming liquid from his cup of hot Chamomile tea, the pleasant, even flavors of honey and lemon warming his body, and easing his hoarse throat. Try as he might, he couldn't block out what Alvis had told him earlier as the words repeated themselves over and over in his mind.<p>

_'You went through what any normal human being does when they've experienced something deeply traumatic in their lives and are having trouble coping with it.'_

_'...what any normal human being does...'_

_'...normal human being...'_

_'...deeply traumatic...having trouble coping...'_

_'...having trouble...coping...'_

_'...normal human...'_

_'...normal...human...'_

_'...human...'_

His hand shook as he quickly returned his cup down onto its saucer on the kitchen counter. Ignoring the pain from his left hand, Loki slumped forward, closing his eyes and running his bandaged fingers across his forehead. He was unaware that his human companions were watching him closely.

"Want something for your headache?" Bryn asked softly.

"I'll be fine, Bryn, but I appreciate the offer," Loki answered politely, his eyes remaining shut. "I feel tired...I should rest." Opening his eyes sluggishly, he stood to his feet, pushing his chair away from the kitchen counter. The trio of humans all wished him goodnight in a mismatched chorus. "Good night...everyone."

He turned in the direction of his room, took five steps then stopped. Pivoting where he stood, he turned to look at Mars and asked hopefully, "Will you be playing music on the piano tonight?"

"I hadn't planned on it but would you _like_ me to?" Mars said eagerly.

"If it's not too much trouble, I would very much like to hear you play," Loki stated and added softly, almost shyly, "The music...it...it helps me sleep."

"Well, in that case, it'll be my absolute pleasure to play for you then," Mars declared proudly. He left the kitchen till he stood near Adam. "Any requests?"

"Something soothing?" Loki suggested. He'd have to research piano music at some point soon.

"Hmm," Mars said, deep in thought as he meandered toward his ten-foot Fazioli F308 concert grand piano in the main reception area positioned directly under their enormous cathedral skylight. The beautiful and elegant black finish of the 19th century replica was a Fazioli Special Model Classic with traditionally turned legs, gold-plated wheels, an ornately hand-carved music desk and a harp-shaped lyre for the pedals. For a uniquely aesthetic contrast, the underside of the grand's lid and its interior was veneered with natural maple wood, creating a stunning visual effect. This piano was Mars's primary source of pride and pleasure for his love of classical music.

Standing reverently before it, Mars sighed with joy before he lifted the piano's lid, securing it in place with a gold-plated lid prop. He then lifted the fall, which tucked itself neatly into place, uncovering the piano's gleaming black-and-white keyboard.

Drawn to Mars's ritual, Loki did a slow circuit around the piano, admiring its shapely craftsmanship and its pleasing beauty. He stood to a stop beside the lid prop.

"May I?" Loki asked, wanting to touch the shiny, metallic-gold surface.

"Touch the piano all you want. It gets polished every week," Mars replied as he lifted the upholstery of the piano's bench to retrieve several music sheets.

Reaching out, Loki ran his bandaged fingers along the surface, frowned, then carefully freed his right arm from the sling around his neck to touch the piano with the unbandaged skin of his right hand. Wincing slightly from discomfort, he ignored the pain from his shoulder as he methodically ran his bare fingers across every smooth curve and deliberate angle of the concert grand, making another slow circuit around the piano. He was so entranced by what he was doing, he hadn't noticed the humans watching him curiously.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Mars remarked. He was seated on the grand's matching bench arranging several booklets of sheet music propped against the piano's ornately carved rack.

"It's an elegant instrument," Loki agreed and returned his right arm into its sling. "Have you chosen a song?" He looked at Mars as he stood beside the piano's lid prop.

"I think so," Mars replied, settling on a specific booklet and spreading its pages open. "This one's almost eleven minutes long. Should relax you nicely. It's Sonata Eleven, Adagio con molta expressione by Ludwig van Beethoven, a German composer."

"I'd like to hear part of it before I retire," Loki requested, leaning against the piano slightly. Soon, the entire suite was filled with the clear, crisp sweetness of softly flowing music. As he listened, he was raptly fascinated by the interior mechanical workings of the concert grand, marvelling at the richness of each played note as little cushioned 'hammers' struck straight, tightly tuned strings that stretched the length of the instrument. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be momentarily swept away by the fullness of the delicate melody; no cares, no worried thoughts as he moved subtly in time to each sweeping note, his body responding to every vibration of being pressed so closely to the side of the piano.

Mars was in a world of his own when he played and hadn't noticed the spell he'd cast on their guest standing beside him. Bryn and Alvi exchanged frequent glances as they watched and listened, wrapped in their own individual spells. Alvi nearly had tears in his eyes as he gazed lovingly at his life-partner and wondered how in the world he'd gotten so _lucky_. Bryn smiled warmly at Mars's amazing piano skills and was moved by the sight of Adam's expression of total enchantment.

Almost reluctant to leave, Loki opened his eyes, grateful for Mars's musical talent. He drifted behind Mars and placed a hand on his shoulder. When Mars gave a smile of acknowledgment, Loki turned toward his room, giving Bryn and Alvi a slight nod as he walked past. Pausing momentarily at his door, he stepped inside, closing it with a soft click.

Mars played the piano for almost an hour, giddy that their handsome guest enjoyed his music. He returned Alvi's loving gaze and smiled warmly at Bryn who'd fallen asleep.

* * *

><p>to be continued<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Correspondence:<strong>

LCx -

_'Wonderful story! I love how you portrayed all of the characters! You had my eyes super-glued to the screen. All of your ideas are brilliant and wonderfully written. Only wish there was more. So please update soon. I can't wait to see the next chapter!'_

_..._

Dear Lcx,

Since I can only reply to you here, I'd like to say first: Thank you! I'm totally flattered and floored by your kind words. To say this story's completely consumed me these days is accurate. LOL. Got total Loki on the brain. I only wish I could translate what I see in my head into words faster. I'm actually wanting to finish this story before the Avenges movie. ;D So, every chance I get, I've got my hands hot-wired to my keyboard too. Oh, and there'll be more chapters, no doubt about that. Writing about Loki as a mortal is quite a journey and I'm sure you're all eager to know how it unfolds - me included. ;D Again, thanks for your kind words. I'm just glad to be able to share my crazy imagination to everyone out there.

- Kemi

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

(*) Song Disclaimer: 'Blue Moon' music by Richard Rodgers, lyrics by Lorenz Hart; performed by Ella Fitzgerald - 1957

Sonata 11 in Bb, Op 22 - 2. Adagio con molta expressione

Pecorino Restaurant and gallery: http pecorinorestaurant dot com

Dunno about you guys, but in this chapter I seriously wanted to give poor Loki a great big hug. The angst! Loki's got a _lot_ on his plate and it's spilling out the sides.

Firstly, Daddy Dearest basically tells him: 'Oh by the way, son, you're a Frost Giant, one of our bitterest enemies and I snatched you up when you were just an itty-bitty baby coz I thought you'd be useful to me one day, but guess what? Turns out, it wasn't one of my best ideas'. *shrugs* 'On your way now.' *pats him on the head*

Secondly, thinking that he'd met his end, Loki wakes up on Earth a mortal and _human_ - a Midgardian race he considers primitive animals. Now, he's gotta deal with having the shortest second life-span ever while trying to come to terms with issues he's never had to bother with before.

I'm sure many of you have noticed Loki having certain traits that don't fit into the definition of 'normal human.' My best explanation of this is that whatever force transformed Loki into his new fate, did the best it could. Loki was a powerful immortal and thus he'd be born as the Ultimate Human Being: 100% brain usage and capacity, enhanced 5 senses and overall resilience, insanely fast immune and regenerative system, etc. You guys get the gist. (Just imagine what today's scientists could do if they ever got their hands on Loki's DNA strands! Or shudder to think...what if S.H.I.E.L.D had instead?)

_*My Special Thanks to the moral support of the following reviewers:*_

_G.U.3.S.S._

_LukePercyslasher_

_Cynthia888_

_SarenatyTsheyka_

Also, my supreme gratitude to all my faithful readers! I'd love to hear from each and every one of you. Your words of encouragement keep me going!

Let Chaos Reign.

(=^_^=)


	5. A Mortal Existence

*Avengers Fan-fiction by Kemurikat*

* * *

><p><strong>Such Fragile Creatures: Act 05 - A Mortal Existence<strong>

* * *

><p>In the Realm of Asgard, under the first shimmering rays of dawn, a lone horse and rider made their weekly gallop across the slowly regenerating Bifrost bridge toward its ragged edge where the hall of Himinbjorg once stood. At the very precipice of the Bifrost, Heimdall stood guard, peering outward with the limitless range of his eyes and ears at the Nine Realms and beyond. Standing perfectly still, the Golden Giant slightly smiled at the fast approach of a horse behind him, already knowing the identity of the rider.<p>

The handsome black stallion, Gullinnbrum, was one of Thor's favorites from the golden stables of Valhalla. It had a bluish sheen to its shiny, black coat, menacing silvery hooves and large, deep blue eyes that, when gazed upon, resembled the feeling of being caught in a heavy rainstorm. The formidable stallion's features were sharply contrasted by its flowing silvery-white tail and mane.

Thor leaned back subtly and Gullinnbrum obediently neighed to a halt a few paces behind where Heimdall stood. Dismounting, Thor, dressed casually in leather Asgardian travel clothes, strolled toward the Golden Gatekeeper. His primary weapon, a powerful Duergar-forged hammer called Mjollnir and his enchanted armor were left behind on a pedestal in his hall.

(Once Odin's two sons were of age, Thor was given a great hall of his own in Asgard, Bilskirnir, being the eldest son. Loki naturally shared a portion of Thor's hall but he chose to drift between Bilskirnir and his mother's hall, Fensalir. Every so often Loki would stay at Sessrumnir, Freya's personal hall in Asgard where he was intimately tutored in the art of seidhr-craft (magic) by the Vanir goddess...ahem, among other things) ;D

"Have you come to hear word of Jane Foster?" Heimdall said with a smile. He never once looked away from whatever captured his attention so intently in the sea of stars on the outskirts of Asgard.

"How does she fare today?" Thor replied softly, ignoring the amusement in Heimdall's tone. "Has she made any progress in her research to find us?"

Normally, after each of his questions, Heimdall would casually tell him of Jane's activities. Today, the Gatekeeper was suspiciously silent. Worried, he asked again more urgently.

"Has something happened to her?"

"The human female, Jane Foster is safe and in good health."

When no further explanation was forthcoming, Thor strode forward and stood beside Heimdall, staring at the Gatekeeper's steely profile.

"There's _more_. Tell me," Thor demanded impatiently. When the Gatekeeper slowly turned his head to meet his gaze with tempestuous, golden eyes, he took a step back.

"The news may not be pleasing to you," Heimdall spoke, his tone low, rumbling like oncoming thunder.

"Neither are your cryptic replies, Gatekeeper," Thor bit out, his patience all but gone. He watched as Heimdall's gaze returned to staring at the vast, star-filled sky.

"You have a mortal rival for Jane Foster's affections."

At those words, it was Thor's turn to be struck by silence.

"Is she...returning the affection of the mortal who courts her?" Thor asked timidly, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

"No. She refuses the attentions of your mortal rival most stubbornly. Jane Foster loves you deeply."

A goofy smile of joy and relief immediately appeared on Thor's face.

_She loves me!_

Heimdall subtly rose an eyebrow in reaction. There was a slight pause as he considered something.

"Is it now your desire to find a _faster_ way to reach the mortal woman?"

"I'm listening," Thor said quietly.

"The way is perilous and your father may not approve."

"Just tell me what I must do," Thor said slowly.

"I will tell you what I know _after_ the arrival of the Lady Freya and Lady Sigyn."

Surprised, Thor openly stared at the Golden Gatekeeper but his delight for Sigyn's Homecoming had turned to trepidation.

"Sigyn returns? Now, of all times..." Thor's face was stricken. "She will ask for Loki. I don't know how long I can delay telling her of..." Bowing his head, he closed his eyes as his grief stabbed him fiercely in the chest.

With Thor's eyes shut, Heimdall had the freedom to frown. He knew that the Trickster had somehow managed to escape death from the cosmic maelstrom in the aftermath of the Bifrost's temporary but devastating destruction. His frown deepened when he recalled what the Trickster...what the _Jotun_ had done and how he'd sorely underestimated the sly, dark-haired Strife-Bringer.

Moreover, his confrontation with Odin All-Father concerning Loki had raised more questions and left him...dissatisfied. It was obvious that Odin _genuinely_ _grieved_ for Loki's loss as he would his own flesh-and-blood offspring. Therefore, Odin would be very displeased with him for withholding his knowledge of Loki's continued existence however _diminished_ the former Jotun's new form had taken.

Glancing briefly at Thor, Heimdall was puzzled. Why were Loki's true origins stubbornly kept a secret from him? Thor had a right to know that the 'brother' he loved and mourned so greatly for was a _Jotun!_ However, despite his misgivings, it was not his place to meddle directly with the decisions of the All-Father.

For now, he would remain silent and keep a vigilant watch on Loki. The moment the former Jotun reemerges as a threat, he would do _everything_ in his power to protect Asgard's borders. Loki will _never_ again best him so easily!

* * *

><p>Bryn left her bedroom toward the kitchen at ten in the morning, showered and dressed casually for the day. She'd fallen asleep on the couch from Mars's soft piano playing last night and despite only having five hours sleep, she felt amazingly refreshed. Today was Friday and her landlord, Raoul Ramirez, would be back from his Brazilian vacation on Sunday morning.<p>

Her rent was already paid up for the next three months, so how the hell was she going to explain her suddenly jumping ship to live in the luxury penthouse suite in the Bourgeoisie building? Raoul was a nasty gossipmonger and she could just imagine the crazy rumors the man would spread around the city about her. It was bad enough that most men she tried to have a serious relationship with thought she was just a stripper. She enjoyed living in San Francisco and was hoping to someday settle down in the city with someone..._nice_ for a change.

Noting the silence around her, Bryn realized she was the first one awake. Shrugging, she went around the kitchen, scrounging herself some breakfast.

Inside the closed double-doors of their master bedroom, Alvi and Mars listened to the faint noises of someone moving about in the kitchen.

"How can she be wide awake," Mars drawled lazily, yawning and cuddling closer to his husband. His short, dark-brown hair was tousled and he had tired circles under his eyes. "I'm staying right here. We should sleep in, dear."

Yawning, Alvi agreed but now that he was awake, he kept thinking about what had happened just five hours ago, most of it having to do with their weird house guest, Adam Laoki.

"Riri...after last night...you think keeping Adam here's still the right thing to do?" Alvi asked Mars softly. He felt his spouse tense against him.

"You're not seriously having second thoughts, are you? I mean...especially after you went to all that trouble getting Adam's I.D. and everything," Mars reasoned. He'd grown irresistibly fond of Adam and the very idea of sending him away _now_ was simply unacceptable.

Shifting to look Mars in the face, Alvi replied, "You saw what happened to Adam last night and that was only a taste of what poor Bryn had to deal with alone. What if his condition gets _worse_? He's potentially dangerous to himself and, well, to _us_. Did you notice how _strong_ he was when he gripped my hand? The two of us couldn't even loosen his fingers!"

Sitting up with a frown, Mars stared at Alvi and said, "Will _you_ be the one to tell Bryn we're calling it quits on Adam or should I?" He crossed his arms defiantly.

"Riri..." Alvi mumbled in exasperation, scrubbing his face slowly with his hands. Good God, he was _tired_ and didn't exactly have the energy for a fight right now.

"I don't want to fight..." Mars said softly, accurately reading his husband's mind.

"Neither do I."

"Let's consider it _settled_ then. We've already made the decision to help Adam and I'm definitely _not_ backing out now," Mars said adamantly.

"I _want_ to help him too...but we barely know Adam and...well...the man's definitely the _strangest_ person I've ever met in my life," Alvi confessed. "First of, he's a bona fide physical _freak_. He wakes up in less than 24 hours after a heavy dose of Thorazine and the bones of his left hand and shoulder heal practically overnight. You heard his story...you really buying into any of it? Remote villages in the mountains of Iceland where people are living a lifestyle straight out of the Dark Ages? An 'eccentric upbringing' he calls it. If the villages Adam came from are so _remote_, why does he talk like he's lived in England all his life? What if he's _delusional_ as well as psychotically violent?"

"Remote communities aren't entirely impossible nowadays," Mars argued. "As for Adam's story...yeah, it does sound a bit loopy...but at the same time, he seems too _intelligent_ to be delusional, don't you think? I'm contradicting myself but you know what I'm trying to get at. Also, whatever he went through...the thing with his family...it definitely _hurt_ him...deeply."

The pair fell silent as they considered each other's arguments, positive and negative, regarding Adam.

Sighing, Alvi relented and grasped his spouse's hand, kissing each finger tenderly.

"I thought _I_ was the Mother Hen," Mars teased, caressing his husband's face.

"Oh, you _are_, darling...and Papa Bear's ready to pounce," Alvi grinned, pulling his spouse toward him for a long, loving kiss.

* * *

><p>Loki laid awake in his bed, staring pensively at the numbers of the digital clock on his bedside table as it changed every 60 seconds.<p>

Time.

The passage of time was irrelevant to an immortal.

...but he was no longer immortal.

Exactly how _much_ time his mortal human body had left before it became as feeble as the old man he saw hobbling on the street below him, he hadn't a clue. He needed that important bit of information and wondered if he should borrow Alvi's computer for that question...and a few others.

_No. It's best if I acquire my _own_ personal devices. That way I have the convenience of keeping the human technology permanently in my room and the freedom to use the devices as I please without prying eyes._

For the moment, acquiring the human technology could wait. His first priority was to unravel the mystery of the event he couldn't remember from last night!

Supremely confident of his mental faculties, there had _never_ been instances where he wasn't in complete control of his thoughts and actions. Even during occasions in Asgard of extreme celebration when he'd taken part in the merrymaking, he knew his limits and refused to tread past the point of oblivious inebriation.

_Unlike Thor who seems to enjoy stumbling about in a madly drunken stupor...or nearly every Asgardian for that matter._

Returning to the urgent issue of his mental 'vacation' from last night, Loki decided that he'd simply ask the humans to tell him, the only witnesses to what had happened.

_Now then, I'd best prepare myself for the day._

He sat up slowly, testing the feel of his right shoulder.

_I've had enough. I'm ridding myself of these ridiculous bindings._

Slipping out of bed, Loki entered his en-suite bathroom and searched for the pair of scissors in his vanity table. Wincing, he patiently removed his right arm from the sling around his shoulder and used his right hand to slowly cut away the bandages wrapped around his left. Cautiously wiggling his liberated fingers, he bent and curled them carefully into the loops of the scissors. He repeated this action several times until he was satisfied with his fingers' movements.

Freed of the wrappings, he tossed the bits of cut fabric into the trash and threw the scissors back into one of the vanity's drawers. Glancing speculatively at the glass shower stall beside the bathtub, he took a clean, dry towel and placed it on the floor by the shower door.

_That way my wet feet won't slip on the stone._

Noting that there were smaller, identical bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash placed inside niches in the shower's stone wall, he removed his pajama bottoms and stepped inside the glass stall.

* * *

><p><em>Wonder if Adam's up yet<em>," Bryn thought to herself as she glanced at the door to his room. She'd settled for a big bowl of cereal, a whole grain bagel with cream cheese and a glass of orange juice. _After last night, I think I better drop in on him._

She quickly checked her reflection on the dark, smooth surface of a cabinet door in the living room. Her hair was bound in a messy clump by a bright-orange scrunchy at the top of her head, as she tugged at her Arc'teryx Poppy Escala Tank with matching Black Rampart Shorts. Barefoot, she walked across the hardwood floor of the common room over to Adam's door and knocked softly.

"Adam? Can I come in?"

When there was no reply, she knocked again and called a bit louder.

Worried, she tested the latch on the door and found it unlocked.

Stepping partially inside his bedroom, Bryn heard the shower running.

She was about to retreat back to the kitchen when an impulsively naughty idea hit her. Smiling to herself, she bit at her finger, deciding to have a go at it.

_Bryn, you're a bad, bad girl_, she scolded herself, tiptoeing toward the wide open doorway of Adam's en-suite bathroom and carefully peeking around the corner.

Standing inside the glass shower stall with his back to her was a deliciously naked Adam under a gentle, overhead stream of water. His hands were splayed against the stone wall, legs slightly apart, head tilted moderately back with his face directly under the spray, his silky hair glistening in a miniature waterfall of vividly black strands.

Silently approaching the glass stall, Bryn's heart thumped wildly in her chest from the tangled excitement of adrenaline, arousal and embarrassment. Her eyes wandered appraisingly over the smooth, fair skin of Adam's gorgeously sculpted swimmer's body, her stomach doing backflips as she screamed at herself for how stupid and perverted she was acting.

_Welcome to the premier 2-hour episode of Lust Factor_, Bryn told herself with a grin.

Filming her own personal porno with her eyes, she slowly licked her lips as her mind ran away with carnal images of Adam ravishing her in the shower.

"I know you're there, Bryn," he said, his softly spoken voice echoing inside the shower stall.

She barely stifled a gasp of surprise, did a quick 180 degree turn and almost bolted out of the en-suite. _Crap crap crap_, Bryn thought to herself nervously, her heart pounding furiously against her rib cage.

"Do you always creep into mens' rooms to boldly watch them as they bathe?" he taunted.

"Uh...for the record, _no_, I _don't_," Bryn disputed firmly, mentally cursing herself as she fidgeted where she stood, staring at the short distance between her and the en-suite door. She was a hair-trigger away from doing a hasty sprint back to the kitchen. Clearing her throat, she really wasn't the least bit sorry for being a Peeping...Tammy. "You didn't answer the door when I knocked. I just came in to make sure you were okay."

"Now that you've seen me, are you satisfied with my condition?"

Adam's voice sounded exactly like the time he'd teased her to wash the rest of his body when she'd scrubbed his hair in the bathtub.

_Oh, yeah_._ Satisfaction's an A-plus-plus._ "I, uh, see you've taken off your bandages," Bryn replied, trying desperately to salvage some of her dignity by playing doctor.

"The bandages were unnecessary and I wanted to be free of them."

"I think I'm a better judge of what's necessary, by the way."

"You claim to know my own body better than I do?"

"I know I'm far from being a licensed doctor yet, but technically, my nearly two years of Med school and Advanced First Aid courses _does_ better qualify me." _Well, sort of_.

The patter of shower water abruptly stopped and the glass door of the stall opened with a dull squeak.

_Oh, shit_, Bryn thought nervously, taking a few steps forward.

"Why so shy? Aren't you accustomed to seeing my naked body by now?" Adam spoke from behind her with amusement.

Gulping nervously, she took another step forward when she felt Adam's presence electrically _close_. Her skin was warmer than normal and there were shivers running up and down her entire back. "You, uh, want me to make you some breakfast?"

"No need. I'll be out shortly," Adam replied, drying himself with a towel.

"Okay, um, I'll be going now," Bryn stated, more than ready to leave.

"Wait."

Though her limbs were poised to run, Adam's request rooted her to the stone floor.

"You may safely turn around now."

_Naked or not, I'm the one who invaded his privacy here_, Bryn thought. She'd never ogled a naked guy she hardly knew before, but she found the experience...thrilling. Besides, Adam had his back to her, anyway. _Oh, well. I'm still not sorry I looked_, she grinned naughtily to herself. _It's not like Adam's ever been shy about it!_

"Yes?" Bryn said and bravely turned to face him.

His arms were crossed and his mouth was in a mirthful half-smile. A large, black towel was wrapped snugly around his hips. Droplets of water ran down his firm, fair skin and his damp, black hair was in a wavy, unkempt mass on his head.

"Good morning."

"Morning," Bryn said cautiously and slowly met his gaze, nibbling at her lower lip. _Fuck, I think I'm trouble, _she thought, not liking the wicked gleam in his greener than green eyes.

"Shall I shed my towel, allowing you to complete your inspection?" Adam teased mercilessly, enjoying Bryn's deepening blush.

"I'm good," Bryn answered, her eyes darting away quickly.

Shaking his head with a soft snort, Adam sauntered toward the vanity table, turned around and leaned against its side, his arms still crossed.

"All jesting aside, Bryn, I need to ask you something," Adam said. "I wish know _exactly_ what happened last night."

Brows crunching together, she said, "Alvi was with you before I got to the roof with Mars. He said that the two of you were 'just talking' and he was afraid that whatever he told you triggered your..."

Images from last night came crashing through her mind. She scoured her brain for the words to best describe what she saw.

"Triggered...what?" Adam asked, looking apprehensive.

She shifted her weight uneasily between both feet and crossed her arms. "By the time Mars and I arrived you...weren't yourself. You were totally stressed out, practically catatonic and you kept talking in Icelandic. Alvi said that you were 'reliving the awful confrontation you had with your father.'" She observed as Adam's face changed from mild apprehension to strong vexation. "Somehow, eventually, you managed to bring yourself back. You're gonna have to ask Alvi for the details on how it started."

Distressed, Adam sank to the vanity table's rectangular stool. His eyes darted rapidly, lost in deep thought as he anxiously rubbed at the fingers of his bruised left hand.

"Hey," Bryn said softly as she sat on her heels in front of him, forcing Adam to look at her, placing both her hands on his. "I was serious about what I told you last night, but you were so out of it, I doubt you heard any of it." He was staring and listening to her intently. "We know you've gone through something _horrible_...so did I, so did Alvi, so did Mars. We're all here to help you try and deal with it. If you want to...if you let us."

"If only my troubles were that simple," Adam said flatly.

"I don't think anybody's problems are simple," Bryn countered. "I only took half-a-semester of Psychopathology and, believe me, I learned how insanely fucked-up a mind can get."

"You should learn to curb your use of strong expletives," Adam reprimanded gently, his eyebrows raising in emphasis.

"My swearing's a work in progress and _not_ the current topic of discussion," was her rebuttal.

"You're beginning to remind me of my mother," Adam teased.

"Good, coz you can _use_ some mothering right now," Bryn said petulantly.

"Is _that_ what compels you to heal my injuries?"

"Maybe part of it..." Bryn said, looking down, her thumbs carefully gliding along the tips of Adam's fingers. "When I first found you that night and saw how hurt you were...I couldn't just leave you there. It...it wasn't right."

"You had an easy choice. You knew _nothing_ about me. _Why_ did you care?"

"Coz I'm _not_ a heartless bitch, okay?" Bryn bit out with a frown, gazing angrily at him. "I knew I was gambling with my life when I took you home that night. You could've easily turned out be an escaped convict or some serial killer or a heroin junkie caught a drug deal gone wrong. These days, most people don't give a shit and totally _avoid_ getting involved in other people's problems. Oh, believe me, if I was one of _those_ people, I would've just left your sorry ass to bleed to death in that dumpster. So, excuse me for having a little fucking compassion!"

She was about to stand when Adam gripped her hands tightly, freezing her in place. Her eyes darted quickly to his as her heart hammered nervously in her chest.

"What if I _am_ one of those unpleasant people you described?" Adam challenged. "How can you be entirely certain that I won't hurt you or Alvi or Mars?"

The intense glare of Adam's green eyes made Bryn shiver but she courageously held her ground against the onslaught. She trembled slightly and visibly swallowed.

"I'm not," Bryn confessed meekly. "I...I just have this...tiny voice inside my head...telling me...that you won't."

Adam's hard gaze softened as he stared at her considerately. Bryn could only speculate on what was going through his mind.

(Had Bryn been able to hear Loki's thoughts, this was what she would've heard:

'_You're but a child to me, Brynhild...and yet sometimes...strangely enough...you seem to possess an insight far beyond your tender age. You're like the unrelenting flame of a candle that burns at its brightest till it's gone. Fueled by blind instinct, you naively march into danger with little regard for the consequences...but miraculously...you emerge all the stronger from it. It's quite admirable, really.')_

Bryn looked away, staring in surprise at Adam's thumbs as they ran along the tips of _her_ fingers, mimicking her earlier supportive gesture to him. His simple movements sent powerful goose-bumps of electricity throughout her entire body. For a brief but happy moment, she fantasized about building a life with someone like Adam in San Francisco...which she stopped instantly when she felt the rising lump in her throat.

_Damn it all to hell,_ Bryn thought angrily to herself. _Men like that don't exist! Why do I keep getting my hopes up? Adams's a fucking head case. He's either delusional or schizophrenic. I have to stop torturing myself!_

"Bryn?" Adam's voice was concerned when he squeezed her hands.

"Sorry...I-I gotta go," Bryn said shakily and tried tugging her hands free from Adam's strong grip. "Let me go." She tried blinking back the tears in her eyes. _Fuck! I'm NOT crying. Not now. Not now!_ "Will you let me _go_, please?" She valiantly fought back tears, looking everywhere but his face.

"Bryn, look at me," he urged in confusion. "What's the matter?"

Reluctantly, after some furious blinking, her eyes slowly met Adam's and found a gleam of determination that wasn't there before...and it scared her.

"That night when you found me, you chose to _help_ me when all you had to do was turn your head, walk away and leave me there to die."

Adam dipped his head down closer to hers.

"What you did for me was very brave and very noble."

He brought her hands toward his face and she automatically rose forward from sitting on her heels, putting her weight on her knees, so he wouldn't have to strain himself.

"I owe you my life, Bryn."

He then pressed his warm, soft lips to the knuckles of both her hands. The deliberately slow, lingering kisses sent jolts of tingly sparks down her arms that spread to her whole body, her eyes widening in reaction.

"From this day forward, I will do everything I can to repay the kindness you've so generously given to me."

"Uh..." Bryn's brain, along with all her emotions, had gone supernova. She felt her mouth moving but instead of words, what she heard were soft, incoherent sounds.

One of Adam's perfectly shaped eyebrows rose in confusion. "Bryn?"

"Um...lemme get back to you on that one," was Bryn's dazed reply as she quickly yanked her hands free from Adam's grasp, rose to her feet and briskly walked out of his room.

* * *

><p>"Oh...God, my head," Tony Stark muttered in annoyance. He blearily fumbled for an Aspirin inside a medicine cabinet in the kitchenette of his mansion's basement workshop and he downed three tablets with a good amount of refrigerated Fiji spring water. "What the hell happened last night?"<p>

"You successfully exceeded the normal human tolerance for alcohol consumption in one sitting last night," Jarvis explained cheerfully. "It's your personal best."

"Ha ha, Jarvis, very funny. Remind me to reprogram you the minute I'm sober."

"In that case, I'm well within my rights to defend myself and will do so using your Iron Man suit as my reliable sentry," Jarvis replied sarcastically.

"Whua...?" Stark's was stunned. He'd never heard Jarvis so..._so_...maybe he was still passed out and dreaming?

"A late-morning greeting to you, Darcy," Jarvis stated cheerfully.

Stark's head swiveled instantly in the direction of the Plexiglas door of his basement entrance.

"Heya, Jarv," Darcy greeted cheerfully carrying a brown paper bag loaded with groceries. She looked at Stark and said, "Thought I'd visit your hung-over self down here to make you some grub. I make a really mean sandwich. Also, you totally drank like a college frat boy last night."

"Not so loud, my head hurts," Stark requested as Darcy giggled.

"Oh, yeah, it's bad," she remarked, placing her brown bag of groceries and emptying its contents on the kitchenette counter.

Staring at Darcy from where he sat slumped against the corner den couch, Stark closed his eyes momentarily and kneaded his temples. Several incidents from last night leapt into his mind and he frowned.

"I need your clarification on something," Stark began, still massaging his temples. "Did we have a conversation last night about Jane being in _love_ with Thor, the Norse god of thunder?"

She stopped in her tracks and slowly turned to face him. "Unfortunately, that would be a numero uno Yes."

"Ya gotta be kidding me," Stark mumbled, grinding the heels of his hands against his eyes, wishing that his body would sink into the couch and down into the concrete floor beneath it. _Fantabulous! The ONE girl I find who's absolutely brilliant and perfect turns out to be unavailable and, better yet, in love with an immortal being from another universe! Maybe I should stay a permanent bachelor._

With his eyes closed, he sat in silence for a while, impatient for the Aspirin to kick in, listening to Darcy as she puttered around the kitchenette with the groceries she'd brought.

Sitting up slowly, Stark regarded Jane's friend and colleague thoughtfully for a few moments and said, "What were you going to tell me last night before you went upstairs?"

"You remembered that, huh? I'm impressed."

"Darcy, can you just, _please_, tell me what you were going to say?"

She stopped what she was doing and turned toward Stark. His eyes were red-rimmed and he looked like hell.

"You really _like_ Jane, don't you?" Darcy stated, mystified by the whole situation and how she'd gotten herself in the middle of it. All she did was call the number on a tiny, neon orange flyer that was posted on the bulletin board at her university dorm. 'Looking for Research Assistant' was the main heading. It seemed like an innocent enough job that would earn her a few hundred bucks to pay for books and materials as she worked her way toward a degree that looked good on her resume.

Instead, nearly two years later, that tiny flyer had brought her _here_, staring at a hung-over multibillionaire Tony Stark aka Iron Man, who'd fallen head-over-heels for her boss, Jane, who was unfortunately in love with Norse thunder god Thor...while she in turn had developed a _major_ crush on Stark's supercomputer, Jarvis!

_I love my life_, Darcy grinned to herself, resisting the urge to pinch herself. Oh, yeah, back to the present. She'd gotten a bit distracted.

There was a look of defeat on Tony Stark's face.

"Yeah...I really like her..."

"Then go get her."

It took several moments for Darcy's statement to percolate in Stark's mind.

"Hold on..._what__?_" Stark stared at Lewis in bewilderment.

"If you really _like_ Jane, what the hell are you doing moping around in your basement for? Just coz she told you she was in love with Thor, you're just gonna give up? News flash, Thor _isn't_ _here_. We have absolutely _no_ idea how long it's gonna take for us to find him or for him to get his thunder ass over here."

She leaned against the kitchenette counter and crossed her arms.

"I know I'm the last person who should be meddling," she added, "especially in relationship stuff...but I spent months watching Jane waste away, totally obsessed over something that may never happen. I want her to be happy just as much as you do, so I'm staging an intervention, okay? As her friend, I want her to be with someone who totally cares about her and who's actually _here_," Darcy explained. "Frankly, of all her prospects lately, _you're_ the best option."

"Uh...huh," Stark said dumbly.

"My advice to you is simple: Go get 'er, tiger," Darcy cheered on with encouragement. She then spun to face the kitchenette counter and her scattered grocery items.

Stunned, Stark remained staring at the back of Darcy's head.

"Whatcha want in your sandwich?" she asked casually over her shoulder.

* * *

><p>Loki puzzled over Bryn's reaction to his sincere pledge to her. He was, after all, wanting to repay a debt of gratitude to the human female for everything she'd done for him and he was quite disappointed that his pledge was received rather...oddly.<p>

Opening his bedroom wardrobe, he scanned the items of clothing that were inside it, frowning at how plain and flimsy the fabrics were. The golden looms of Fensalir always produced the finest and strongest spun garments that were traded for armor and weapons made in the metal forges of the Duergar. (more widely known as Dwarves in Midgard)

Though Loki tried hard not to think of it, he sorely missed his home and his former life in Asgard. Even if 'home' simply meant sharing a small portion of Thor's hall in Bilskirnir or his chambers in Frigga's hall, Fensalir or a guest bedchamber in Freya's hall, Sessrumnir.

Then there was the matter of Sigyn's impending Homecoming. Despite his mysterious transformation to a mortal human form...his connection to Sigyn hadn't diminished in the slightest.

His legs suddenly gave way as Loki crumpled to the tightly woven carpet of his bedroom floor, overwrought with long-suppressed emotions. Little Sigyn had finally returned from her long absence of pursuing her studies.

_How much have you grown, I wonder? You were but a little girl when we parted. I can only imagine the skills you've mastered and how well you've learned to use them. _

_Perhaps...no. She may never find me. She wouldn't know where to look. Even if she did...what would be the point? I'm no longer immortal._

However, the very thought of Sigyn settling down with...someone else...filled him with irrational rage and twisted his stomach into knots. Shutting his eyes tightly, he slowly calmed himself with deep, even breaths.

Sitting cross-legged on the towel that had loosened itself from his waist, Loki rubbed his scalp with as much pressure as his injuries would allow him, moving his fingers in careful, even circles. He stopped when he realized what he'd just done.

He'd precisely duplicated the soothing massage that Bryn had given to him when she'd offered to wash his hair in the tub.

_Bryn. I'd best sort out our earlier conversation and why she'd responded in that manner._

Standing, Loki picked up his damp towel and pitched it into a hamper in his en-suite bathroom. Returning to his wardrobe near the entrance to the balcony of his room, he saw that a full-length mirror was attached to the inside of one of the doors.

Examining the reflection of his naked body, Loki saw that some of his healing injuries still appeared distastefully bruised. Although, most of the cuts and gashes on his body, including those on his left hand, were fading nicely and it gave him some relief. He disliked having marks or scars of any kind on his skin.

Perusing the scant collection of garments inside his wardrobe, he recognized a pair of pants that looked similar in style to what Thor had worn, except that the color was dark blue, and parts of the fabric were creased and discolored deliberately.

Draping the pants over his right arm, he pulled a stone-gray garment from a small stack on a shelf and unfolded it. The long-sleeved shirt had an open v-shaped neckline with buttons sewn in as decoration along one side and the fabric was soft to the touch.

Walking over to his bed, he laid the pants down and carefully wore the long-sleeved shirt. He winced, having to lift his right arm higher than he dared before, placing a great strain on his injured shoulder. Enduring the throbbing pain, he wore the pants and found that they fit snugly against his legs and hips. When he went to pull up the zipper that fastened the pants together, he found that the metal teeth were dangerously close to the skin of his genitalia.

_That certainly won't do_, Loki thought.

Frowning, Loki removed his pants and returned to the shelves of his wardrobe. He saw a few styles of undergarments and decided to try each of them on. He needed _some_ protection against the metal teeth of the zipper.

The last pair of undergarments he tried were the most comfortable for him. The soft, formfitting, stretchy fabric of the boxer briefs felt similar to the first layer of clothing he often wore under his enchanted armor.

Fully dressed, he turned slowly in front of the full-length mirror on his wardrobe door and examined how the Earth garments fit him. Both the long-sleeved shirt and pants exhibited the firm definition of his body. At least he appeared less unkempt compared to Thor's choice of Earth clothing when he'd divined him through the Destroyer in New Mexico.

Meandering over to his en-suite's vanity table, he quickly ran a comb through his damp, wavy hair, untangling any knots but leaving the inky locks to fall however it wanted. Satisfied that his overall appearance was the best it could be with what he had, Loki left his bedroom for the kitchen.

Outside, Bryn was nowhere to be found, but he had a strong feeling that she'd retreated to her room. He looked in that direction from the kitchen just as Mars and Alvi emerged from their master bedroom.

"Adam, you're awake," Alvi said reflexively, stating the obvious. His eyes roamed appreciatively over their guest's appearance. "Those clothes suit you excellently."

"They'll do," Loki said simply.

"We should take you shopping soon. I'm sure you'd rather wear clothes you picked out yourself," Mars stated, in awe of Adam's attractiveness. "Don't worry, our treat."

Shopping. Loki had only read the definition of the word and was curious to observe this strange human ritual. Having to hunt for one's clothing sounded amusing. Living in Asgard, he'd personally designed his own articles of clothing, each based on a specific purpose and function. He always enjoyed consulting Silkimjur, one of Frigga's handmaidens who was extremely talented in the art of looming fabric.

"Have you had anything to eat yet?" Alvi asked, walking toward the kitchen counter.

"No, I just arrived."

"Would you like me to make you something?" Alvi asked again. He thoroughly enjoyed cooking and felt like showing off his skills to their handsome guest.

"What will you be making?"

"I haven't really decided yet. Mars? Any ideas?"

"Well, it's too late for breakfast...oh, I know. How about crepes?" Mars suggested. "I'm having folded crepes topped with Crab Benedict, please."

"Knew you'd say that, love. I'll have the same. Adam?"

"I'm...open to suggestions," Loki replied, knowing only the definition of that type of food.

"How hungry are you?" Alvi asked.

"Famished."

"In that case...a Steak Diane crepe should more than satisfy your appetite," Alvi said, roaming around the kitchen and quickly picking out the utensils he needed.

"What are the ingredients of that dish, if you don't mind me asking."

"Wrapped tender steak strips topped with a Brandy, mustard, mushroom and shallot sauce," Alvi explained, rummaging in the fridge for fresh produce.

"That sounds...very appetizing," Loki said, his mouth watering in anticipation. "Shall I ask Bryn if she'd like something to eat? She's in her room at the moment."

"Oh, we thought she'd gone out," Alvi said. "Go ahead and ask her then."

Smiling to himself, Loki walked over to Bryn's bedroom door and knocked softly. "Bryn, are you in there? Alvi and Mars are making food to eat. Would you like a serving?"

"Hold on a sec," was Bryn's muffled reply from behind her door. After a short while, there was a click and her door opened. "Excuse me."

Avoiding eye contact, Bryn walked past him with a lavender-colored bundle, rolled and tucked under one arm. She'd changed from her earlier outfit to a small, tight, pale-blue garment that only covered her upper torso, her shorts replaced by an enticingly form-hugging, warm-gray crop pant.

"We're having crepes, dear. You still hungry?" Mars asked from the kitchen.

"I had some breakfast earlier but I'd _really_ like a strawberry crepe...with _tons_ of chocolate," Bryn said, spreading her Yoga mat in the spacious common room.

Alvi and Mars exchanged glances. Bryn only requested 'tons' of chocolate when she was upset about something.

"Want the crepes in chocolate too?" Alvi asked.

"I'd _love_ it, thanks," Bryn answered then plugged her ears with her iPod Shuffle earbuds, the bright fuchsia aluminum square mp3 player clipped to the strap of her sports tank. After a few, meditative deep breaths, she dove down into a Yoga 'Plank Pose.' After a few minutes she followed it with a 'Dolphin Plank Pose.'

"Bryn, what are you doing?" Loki asked curiously as he stood watching her nearby. His brows crunched together when she made no reply. Either the female was deliberately ignoring him or whatever she'd placed in her ears prevented her from hearing his question.

"Adam, you should leave her alone when she's exercising like that," Mars warned.

"Exercising?" Loki mumbled. "What's she training herself for?"

"Training?" Mars said, glancing at Alvi who shrugged. "I don't think she's training for anything specific...other than for work."

"Bryn told me that she works downstairs in a 'club' you and Alvi own," Loki replied, standing in the kitchen against the large, stone counter.

"Did Bryn tell you what she does?" Mars asked, mixing the batter for the crepes.

"No. All she told me was that the 'club' was 'a basic adult bar' with a 'great dance floor,'" Loki said, repeating what Bryn had told him. He still wasn't sure what the words fully meant.

"When Bryn's ready, she'll invite you downstairs," Mars replied cryptically.

_Why all the secrecy_, Loki thought, puzzled, glancing at Bryn. He now had the distinct impression she was avoiding him. "Is there anything I can do to help prepare the meal?"

"We're fine, Adam, but thanks for asking," Alvi said with a smile. "You should be more patient and let your hand and shoulder properly heal first."

_I've spared more than enough patience on this wretchedly weak mortal body_, Loki groused. While they prepared the meal, he'd rather not sit idly.

"Alvi, may I borrow another of your books?"

"Go right ahead. You know where they are," Alvi replied, knowing that their handsome guest had already boldly borrowed a few items from their master bedroom. Why he wasn't lividly offended by Adam's liberal crossing into their personal space, completely boggled him._ Although, he does score big points for returning whatever he borrowed, exactly back to where it came from_, he thought to himself, pouring a measured amount of crepe batter into a large skillet. Beside him, Mars was busy chopping ingredients.

Walking straight into the master bedroom, Loki browsed Alvi's antique bookshelf for something interesting to read and came across a book that had been placed upside down on the shelf. The title of the book was unreadable and its leather binding was wrinkled and worn. He'd seen the book before during his first examination of the bookshelf's contents, but had found it uninteresting and it sat properly on the shelf at the time.

Pulling the book free, Loki flipped it open and was surprised to find that the binding was false. There was another book inside it that was much _newer_ than its worn, leather cover.

"The New Male Orgasm: Tantric Sex for the Spiritual Male," Loki read the new book's title softly. On the first page of the book was a handwritten note in a neatly cursive script:

To Vivi,

How's this for experimentation?

To our healthy marriage and sex life.

Yours forever,

Riri

_Well, now, what have we here_, Loki thought to himself with a grin as he flipped to a random section and found detailed photographs with descriptive instructions printed underneath. He rotated the book clockwise as he stared at a particularly interesting image.

Sitting on the hardwood floor of the master bedroom, Loki leaned against the antique bookshelf behind him and began reading the book he held from the beginning.

* * *

><p>Jane stared out the broad panel windows of the Stark mansion's cliffside living room with a troubled expression, watching the waves swell and crest in the ocean. Frothed with sea foam, each wave undulated wildly in their own unique pattern. She hardly slept last night, tossing and turning in the wake of Stark's confession to her. Well, it wasn't like he'd confessed his undying love to her or anything...but there was an unmistakable <em>look<em> in his eyes that spoke volumes, a look that hinted at something _more_ than just a simple 'he liked her.'

Tears rolled down her cheeks as the turmoil inside her bubbled over. Was she being _stupid_? Why was she stubbornly holding onto her feelings for an _immortal_ being who'd promised to 'return for her'...and then what?

There was no denying that she loved Thor. What she felt for him was _real_, more real than anything she'd ever felt in her life! They'd kissed and he'd promised to come back for her...and then he was just..._gone_.

Was Thor even _trying_ to reach her? She had no way of knowing. It's not like she could dial up the Norse Mythology Hotline and ask for Thor. Even if she could, what would she say?

_'Um, excuse me? Yes. I'd like to speak to Thor, please? Oh...he's busy? Can you tell him that Jane Foster needs to speak to him. Is it urgent? I think so. Well, he promised to come back for me. Okay, I'll hold. Thor? Oh. What do you mean he doesn't remember saying that?'_

Thor was a powerful immortal being from another universe, specifically from Asgard, Realm of the gods. She was Jane Foster, astrophysicist, mortal human resident of Earth in Midgard. What could she possibly have to offer _him_?

Then there was that _kiss_.

Every time she began to doubt herself, Jane always returned to the moment of that kiss. It wasn't just any kiss. It was _the_ kiss. The kiss that told her, Thor, Norse god of thunder..._loved_ her...and whenever she tried to disregard the moment as a fantasy brought on by extreme infatuation...her heart told her differently. Hell, she felt the _truth_ of that moment to her very bones!

Now, where did that leave Stark? She knew the truth of what Stark _felt_ even before he told her. She'd felt it too. The longing...the hope. Maybe her vulnerable state was making her extra-sensitive and empathic...and it made facing the truth about Stark all the more difficult. Unlike Thor, Tony Stark was physically _here_...and hiding in his basement!

Stark had also offered to fund her research. Backing up to look at the overall picture, his offer was something she'd be crazy to pass up. Especially if it meant the ultimate goal of discovering a way to bridge the gap to another universe. The implications and possibilities of such a result were monumental...and mind-blowing!

Also, she wasn't completely naive. Stark was a businessman and an opportunist. There was no way his claim to help her was entirely innocent. There was definitely some other motivation behind his offer than just pure scientific curiosity.

_Suck it up, Jane, and grow a pair. _

_I'll accept Stark's offer, if he still feels generous, after I explain everything to him. I'd rather do this knowing we can trust each other. Besides, I could use his help and expertise. The guy's brilliant. He might see things I've overlooked._

Taking a deep breath, Jane headed straight for the winding stone staircase to the mansion's basement.

* * *

><p>By the time Loki reached the last page of the book he read, Mars arrived in the master bedroom to fetch him. When Mars recognized the book he held, the man squeaked, his mouth opening in shock. Loki did his best not to laugh, his face remaining neutral.<p>

"Where did you _get_ that?" Mars exclaimed in a high-pitched whine, his face beet red.

"I found it on the book shelf," Loki replied cooly, his face a picture of innocence as he stood to his feet.

"W-Well, put it back! That book's..._private property!_" Mars was so flustered it was the best line he could come up with.

"If this book's so private," Loki began slowly, walking up to Mars with a predatory gleam in his vividly green eyes. He stopped so close to the man that Mars took a nervous step back.

Leaning forward, he whispered seductively, "Then you and Alvis need to be more careful...where you put your private things." He closed the book with a sharp, audible slap that made Mars jerk in surprise.

Walking back unhurriedly to the bookshelf, Loki returned the book wrapped in worn leather to the space where he'd found it, flipping it right-side up.

"Besides, I found this book to be rather...educational."

Mars couldn't stop the stifled squeak from his throat in reaction to Adam's roguish smile. Beet red and shaking, a hand rose to cover his gaping mouth.

"I believe our crepes are waiting? Because I'm starving," Loki replied cheerfully and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Before he left the master bedroom, he turned around and said, "Oh, and Mars?"

When Casen turned around - still beet red - to cautiously look at him, Loki added, "I think you and Alvis should _really_ try the picture on page 99. Just make sure you're both completely alone, though. The position's guaranteed to be quite..._vocal_."

With a parting wink, Loki pivoted and left the room.

* * *

><p>From where she stood on her Yoga mat, Bryn noted that Adam left the master bedroom with a strange smile on his face, a slight hop to his step and without Mars. Removing her ear buds, she was about to roll up her mat when she saw Mars peeking at her from the doorway of their master bedroom.<p>

"Pssst!" Mars said carefully, furiously gesturing for her to come to him.

_The fuck's going on?_

Glancing toward the kitchen, Bryn sprinted toward Mars across the span of the common room.

"What's up?" Bryn asked, clearly puzzled.

"Remember how you asked me to tell you if I think Adam's gay?" Mars said.

"Yeah?" Bryn replied, not liking what she might hear.

"There's a good fucking possibility."

"Okay, why'd you say that?" Bryn definitely _wasn't_ liking at all where the conversation was going. If Adam was gay...then there was absolutely no chance in hell that she...and he...anyway, why did _that_ matter all of a sudden?

"You, uh, ever heard of Tantra?"

"Yeah. It's kinda like Yoga for sex, why?"

"Well, they published a book with instructions for gay men too."

"Wow. Really?"

"Anyway...I think it's my fault. We own one of those books and I gave it to Alvi on our first wedding anniversary." He cleared his throat. "I must've put the book back on the shelf wrong."

"So...Adam found the book?"

"Oh, yeah. Read the _entire_ thing too."

"...and?"

"Well," Mars moved closer to her and said in a low voice, "I think he made a pass at me just now."

Bryn's eyes widened at Mars's statement.

"Get the fuck out. What'd he _do__?_"

He whispered a condensed version of what happened and her mouth fell open.

"He did not."

He nodded vigorously on the contrary.

"Hold on...you said a good 'possibility.' So, you're still not _sure_ he's - ?"

"A straight guy could ever do what Adam did, even if he was pretending to," Mars said solemnly. "Either he's one fucking good actor...or he's bisexual like Alvi."

"...or maybe he's not being completely honest with us about the kind of 'village' he's from," Bryn said with a frown. _Maybe Alvi's right and Adam's from a twisted cult...or better yet, totally delusional and crazy. _

There was a third possibility...but it was something that she dreaded most of all. What if...what if Adam Laoki turned out to be a...very intelligent and charming...professional con-artist?

_Please, please...don't let it be the third option. I don't think I can take it_, Bryn mentally pleaded.

Since they were on the subject of their weird guest, she might as well come clean with her experience this morning.

"Speaking of come-ons..."

* * *

><p>Heart thumping nervously in her chest, Jane Foster descended the winding stone staircase that led to Stark's basement workshop. Stopping in the shadows before the Plexiglas entrance, from where she stood, she saw that Darcy and Stark were in the middled of a heated conversation. Empty plates and glasses were on the coffee table and Stark still wore his clothes from last night.<p>

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Jane walked down the last few stone steps and opened the door.

"Jane," Stark said, immediately standing up and nearly loosing his balance. He tried his best to fix his messy hair and disheveled clothing.

"Hi," Jane replied softly. Darcy smiled to her briefly and gathered up the empty dishes. "About last night - " She and Stark spoke simultaneously.

"Sorry. You first," Stark said graciously. "Uh, please?" He gestured for her to sit down. She nodded shyly and sat on one of the end chairs.

"Rough night?" Jane said, trying to break the ice as she fidgeted in her chair.

Darcy cringed as she loaded up the dishes in the hidden dishwasher.

"Yeah, you could say that," Stark said patiently, not bothered by her comment as he leaned back on the couch. He knew he looked like hell.

"I'm sorry about what I did last night. I was being childish."

"Ditto," Stark replied and shrugged. Jane smiled, then giggled. He chuckled along with her.

Darcy tiptoed quietly around them and sat at Jarvis's console.

"I thought about what you told me last night and I'm really flattered that you've offered to help me - "

"The offer still stands," Stark interrupted with a serious expression.

"It wouldn't be fair to you if I accept."

"Because of how you feel about Thor?" Stark's face was neutral.

She looked away feeling guilty and nodded. "Yeah."

Leaning forward, Stark rested his elbows on his knees and said, "I've decided that the whole Thor thing's irrelevant. You said so yourself that the issue's _personal_. I think we both know that with my help and without S.H.I.E.L.D. breathing down your neck, you have a better chance of trying to bridge the gap between our world and Asgard. Besides, I'd really like to see for myself what all the fuss is about."

From the safety of Jarvis's computer console, Darcy cheered Stark on with a grin as she hid behind a large monitor.

Stunned, Jane stared at Stark's mischievous expression in disbelief. Did anything bother this guy? She wasn't expecting to be backed into a corner. If she refused the opportunity, she'd be shooting herself in the foot. If she accepted...

Sighing, Jane sat up straight, held out her hand and said, "Then I accept your offer to help me with my research, Mr. Stark. If there are any formalities..."

"Relax, Foster. This is strictly off the record. I'm not handing S.H.I.E.L.D. a paper trail so they can track what we're doing here. Our project's off the grid as far as I'm concerned."

"If S.H.I.E.L.D. finds out, won't they try to bully their way in? They did it to me. Took everything I had," Jane explained. The incident was still a very sore spot to her.

"They can _try_," Stark replied with a grin. "I think that between the three of us, we can crack this case faster than Jarvis can compose a dirty limerick."

_It'll also buy me some time to get to know you better, Jane. By the time we've made any sort of progress, I want to make you forget about Thor._

* * *

><p>"Where's Mars?" Alvi had everything prepared and was wondering what his better half was up to.<p>

"He wanted to freshen up," Loki replied smoothly as he sat down at the stone counter in front of the meal that was prepared for him. He took a long drink from his glass of...he stopped and stared at the glass in his hand. The drink was _delicious_.

"Tropical fruit mimosa," Alvi said with a smile.

"It's very flavorous," Loki admitted, enjoying the different tastes that lingered on his tongue. Glancing at his meal, his mouth watered and he nearly drummed his fingers on the counter in impatience.

"Are you all right?" Alvi asked. Adam seemed agitated.

"I'm fine," Loki said, a bit too quickly. Images and paragraphs from the book he'd just read kept interrupting his thoughts and he hadn't expected to feel so...irritable. He'd read his hosts' 'private' book out of pure curiosity and smiled to himself knowing that the Vanir twins, Frey and Freya, would find some of the positions and photographs interesting.

The images from the book swam in his head and were substituted with other faces, other bodies. Like forceful intruders, sensual memories from his past surfaced and wove themselves unmercifully into a tapestry of naked skin, clasped hands and entwined legs with voices crying out in rapturous joy.

"How did you and Mars meet?" Loki asked in a rush, feeling breathless.

"You sure you're all right? You look a bit flushed," Alvi observed.

"Do I?"

Loki's hands nearly went to touch his cheeks.

Before Alvi could ask more questions, Bryn and Mars appeared.

"Where've you two been? Your plates are getting cold," Alvi remarked.

"Sorry we're late, love" Mars replied, clearing his throat. He noted that Bryn gave Adam a wide girth as she walked past him; even moved her chair and plate away from him as she sat at the stone counter, refusing to meet his inquiring gaze. When he glanced at Adam, he saw the uneasiness on his handsome face.

"This looks and smells wonderful. Shall we?" Loki said, trying to seem cheerful and took a bite from his plate. He sighed with contentment, immensely grateful to a plate of food made by Alvis's superb culinary skill.

The foursome sat in silence for a while, Alvis casually observing everyone as they ate. There was an unusual tension in the air that felt thicker with each passing minute. He knew there was something going on and he'd rather not be out of the loop.

"Darling, our guest here wants to know how we met," Alvi said.

"Oh?" Mars looked over at Adam who nodded slightly.

"I'd like to hear more about you as well, Mars...if you don't mind," Loki asked softly. He needed a _long_ distraction from the intrusively carnal thoughts in his mind. After merely browsing a book on the subject of sex, it bothered him greatly why he was so affected by it.

_Nearly_ a_ll my memories of sexual pleasure...are from Asgard. I've never considered pleasuring mortals though I know of others who have done this. It's immensely difficult...mortals are too fragile._

"More about me..." Mars placed his fork down slowly, glad that he'd finished most of his crepe.

"Not the best topic right now, Adam," Bryn said with a frown, taking a large bite from her loaded chocolate-strawberry crepe. She hadn't looked at him when she spoke.

"No, it's fine," Mars replied. "Having you all here makes me feel better when I talk about it." Alvi had grasped his hand tightly and he smiled warmly at his husband. He fidgeted in his chair.

"Let's finish eating first, then we can all gather in the living room where we'll be more comfortable," Alvi suggested.

"Goody, I'll make tea," Mars said excitedly, feeling infinitely better and relishing the rest of his meal.

Loki ate in silence, savoring the flavors of his meal, occasionally glancing at Bryn who was _definitely_ avoiding him.

_Now that we're all scheduled to convene in the living room, perhaps I can resolve some issues I've instigated._

He was fully aware of what he'd done to Mars and felt the uneasy tension from the man. Also, it was _wiser_ to stay in his hosts' good graces since he was currently dependent on the three humans in these early stages of his new...mortal life.

_Most unfortunately dependent_, Loki heaved a mental sigh. _At least for now_.

When they'd finished their meal, Loki watched as Mars busied himself in the kitchen preparing a pot of tea, along with a tray of pastries and sweets as a complement. When they allowed him to help put away the dishes, he observed that Bryn was still stubbornly avoiding any kind of interaction with him.

When the humans had left him alone for four hours, he'd first made himself a meal then devoured the information contained in the many pages of both the Dictionary and Thesaurus that he'd plucked from a cabinet in the living room. Once he'd finished reading, he immediately explored every corner of the penthouse suite, correctly identifying various objects and eagerly connecting them to the new words he'd learned. At the time, he'd only wanted to satisfy his voracious curiosity and disregarded personal boundaries when it came to the humans' individual rooms and their personal things.

Bryn's room hardly had much to find and he suspected that a majority of her belongings were still kept in her basement apartment. However, Mars's and Alvis's master bedroom, in contrast, was _full_ of interesting items in cleverly hidden compartments and he'd thoroughly enjoyed ferreting around their bedroom.

The minute everything was prepared, Loki strolled behind the trio of humans to the penthouse suite's stylish but cozy living room. Three big bean bags were scattered atop a large rug that covered most of the dark hardwood floor, while a single, rectangular, metal and glass table stood in the center of the rug. Soft, oversized pillows were scattered on the high-backed leather sofa, Bryn hugging one in her arms as she sat down. Glancing at the strange blank frame - the largest in the suite - attached to the wall at the front of the room, Loki couldn't fathom why the humans felt the need to hang the same empty, black picture frames in every bedroom. Was it supposed to be symbolic of something?

Lounging casually on the floor in one of the beanbags, Loki waited patiently for the humans to get comfortable and for Mars to begin his story. He looked up at the three humans who'd seated themselves on the sofa. Bryn sat closest to him with a pillow on her lap, her legs tucked up underneath her as she continued to avoid his gaze.

"Okay," Mars said, taking a deep breath. He glanced at Bryn who sat to his right as she smiled back warmly. Seated to his left, he grasped his husband's right hand and placed it on his lap, interlocking their fingers. He then looked directly at Adam, his Scottish curl sounding slightly thicker when he spoke.

"I came from a well-to-do family in Edinburgh, Scotland. I had an older brother, Shaw (Loki noted an obvious distaste when he said the name) and a younger sis, Iseabail."

He paused, looking sad.

"My mum was Ealasaid Amherst and my...father was Stuart Acton."

He couldn't hide the loathing on his face when he spoke his father's name, and took a moment to collect himself as he cleared his throat and sipped some tea.

"Sorry. You'll see why I've come to _hate_ the fucking bastard."

"Sssh, love, he can't hurt you anymore," Alvi whispered softly. Bryn looked at Mars with clear sympathy on her face.

Loki's eyebrows rose slowly in surprise as he sat up straight, intrigued by how negatively Marius Casen felt about his father which mirrored his own feelings toward Odin.

"I had a good childhood filled with love and acceptance, and I was closest to my mum and little sis. The three of us would read stories to each other, have long walks together and I'd play the piano for them. My brother Shaw and I never got along. He was a nasty brute and every time mother turned away he'd make rude faces at me and Izzy. He'd pull her hair, put all sorts of disgusting things in our beds and such. Mother tolerated none of it and Shaw was always sore with her, accusing her of favoring Izzy and me. Maybe if he didn't act like such a prat, he wouldn't get scolded so often. Of course, it was just the way he was. He was definitely a sour apple that didn't fall far from the wretched tree."

He paused for a brief sigh.

"I was thirteen when mum got sick. That's when I saw the attitude changes on my so-called father. You see, my mum came from old money and it turns out Stuart was after it from the beginning. He was a charmer, that one. Always on his best behavior toward my mum and everyone in public...but when her illness got worse...so did he...and Shaw right there with him."

Mars's eyes became haunted and his mouth curled into a frown. In reaction, Alvi wrapped an arm securely around his shoulders, briefly squeezing as it remained there.

"I knew I was..._different_ from the beginning and mum didn't care about how I acted. She always laughed when she saw Izzy and me dressed in her old clothes, playing tea time. Izzy liked me best because I was like a 'big sister' to her."

He smiled briefly then his mouth pursed into a tight line.

"While mum encouraged my 'creativity,' Shaw and Stuart were completely disgusted by my behavior and...didn't appreciate having a 'shirt-lifting ponce' in the family. I didn't know what being homosexual implied at the time, I was only thirteen. I just thought it had something to do with dressing up in mum's clothes."

His face darkened.

"When mum died...everything went to hell."

Mars felt Alvi's supporting grip tighten.

"Shaw and Stuart became the big lords of the house, the pair of them took turns emotionally and verbally torturing Izzy and me. Stuart took it a step further though."

When the look in Mars's eyes turned murderous, Loki's brows crunched together slowly. He leaned forward slightly, staring steadily at Mars. Bryn had a worried expression.

"You don't have to say anymore, love," Alvi crooned softly.

_It's the strangest fucking thing_, Mars thought, gazing judiciously at Adam's impossibly green eyes. _I hardly know you...so why do I feel like I've..._ He snorted, scratching the back of his head with a lopsided smile as Alvi and Bryn exchanged puzzled glances.

"What...happened to you, Mars?" Loki asked slowly.

"It's none of your business, Adam, _please_," Alvi snapped curtly, glaring at their guest.

"It's all right, love," Mars reassured his husband, grasping his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. "I've carried the pain of that night inside me for far too long. I have to try to let it go."

He turned his head to look at Adam and spoke in an empty daze.

"You see, one night, Stuart decided to show me exactly what being a 'queer' was all about. Shaw was there but all the coward did was watch. I think he was too horrified by what he was seeing to move a muscle. Stuart threw me face-first against my own bed, held me down by sitting on my back and tore my pants off. Izzy must have heard me screaming in my room and my brave little sis ran at Stuart before he could do anything, biting him hard in the arm like a rabid little wolf. I think she ripped a good chunk of skin off too. Stuart was so angry...he hit her."

Tears trailed slowly down Mars's cheeks and his lips quivered.

"Izzy was such a delicate little thing...Stuart hit her so hard...that her neck snapped."

"Oh, God," Bryn gasped. Tears flowed down her cheeks and she was shaking. Alvi's eyes were red-rimmed and tearful but he seemed more furious than sad.

"When I saw Izzy on the floor and she wasn't moving...that's when _I_ snapped," Mars continued in a haunted daze. "I kicked, bit and clawed the _vile_ fucking bastard off me, ran for the fire hook in my room and hit Stuart repeatedly with it as hard as I could. I don't really know where I hit him or how many times. Everything was a blur. I was so _angry_...I wasn't myself. I just remember...that Stuart and I were covered in blood. I kept hitting Stuart till he stopped moving. I dropped the fire hook when I saw Shaw on the floor, crying, begging me not to kill him. He kept mumbling and he'd pissed himself. He looked so pathetic, he wasn't even worth hitting."

Clearing his throat, he reached for some tissue, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose.

"Oh, God, Mars..." Bryn whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this before, Brynnie. It was just too hard," Mars said softly. Bryn leaned in for a tight hug and they held each other for a long moment. When they parted, he brushed her cheek.

"No more tears, dearie. I've shed enough of my own for _two_ lifetimes."

"There are days I wish I could gut Stuart myself," Alvi hissed through clenched teeth.

"Alvis," Mars admonished softly. "Not in present company, love, please."

A grim silence blanketed the living room.

"By the time the police came...they found me laying beside Izzy and I refused to let go of her. Eventually, they managed to sorted out the whole tragedy," Mars narrated, resuming his story. "Stuart went to jail, Shaw went to a juvenile medical detention center and I was left alone in a house that felt more like a mausoleum than my own home. My mum's younger sister, Aunt Elicia, flew in immediately from London to take care of me. She was a good woman and we got along well...but she wasn't mum. Soon as I turned eighteen, I changed my name, left Scotland and traveled around Europe. Aunt Elicia kept sending me money for expenses, which I tried to refuse of course, but she kept insisting. I met many people, explored my sexuality and eventually 'found myself' again. Except...I had this thing where I couldn't bear to settle down in one place for too long."

A slow smile crept along his jawline and he glanced knowingly at Alvi beside him. "Until _this_ rascal sat beside me in Art History class at Oxford." He gave his husband an affectionate nudge. "Then, lo and behold, a miracle! Soon as our eyes met, all my commitment issues went out the window."

There was a proud grin on Alvis's face as he pulled Mars against him, his spouse cuddling into his chest.

Slumping into the bean bag behind him, Loki's face remained severe. A fully adult male had attempted to rape his young son and willfully killed his young daughter! Marius's father's actions were..._harrowing_ _and_ _unforgivable!_

"Does Stuart yet live?" Loki's tone was low and lethal. The three mortals spun their heads to stare at him with astonishment. "Does he?"

"Bastard's rotting in a jail cell...why?" Mars asked cautiously.

"Where I come from, if anyone committed an incorrigible crime as Stuart Acton had, they would've been _beheaded_ where they stood," Loki rasped with conviction.

Mars's and Bryn's eyes widened.

"With regards to Stuart Acton, beheading him is the _least_ that beast deserves...but Adam...unfortunately, that's not how the law works around here," Alvi stated slowly. "Are you implying that the rules are _different_ where you're from?"

"Indeed, they _are_. Where I come from, a crime of that magnitude is _unthinkable,_" Loki declared loudly with rising anger. "Only _repulsively_ _degenerate_ _beasts_ harm their own children!"

His fists were clenched so tightly that he visibly winced. Carefully, Loki uncurled the fingers of his left hand and rubbed at his throbbing digits while staring angrily at them.

"Here, let me see," Bryn said softly, leaving her comfortable spot on the couch. She sat cross-legged beside her Science Experiment and took his hand, gently tracing her fingers over each of his joints, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Bryn...why won't you look at me?" Loki asked, puzzled and a bit frustrated. "Have my words to you earlier, somehow offended you?" He then noted that Mars's and Alvi's full attention had quickly focused on them. The pair silently listened to their conversation from where they sat on the couch. "Or could it be...that you don't believe I meant those words?"

Sighing, she slowly lifted her head, reluctantly meeting his eyes.

"I know you meant it," Bryn answered softly.

"Then, _why_ are you upset?" Loki brows were creased as he tried to decipher the answer in her sad, blue-green gaze.

"I'm upset because I'm not...I have absolutely no idea how..." Bryn bit at her lower lip when she frantically tried to come up with a sentence that made any _sense_...but her brain refused to cooperate. Fuck! She instantly heard Adam's warning about her swearing in the back of her mind. Double fuck!

_'From this day forward, I will do everything I can to repay the kindness you've so generously given to me.'_

"Adam, I didn't save your life coz I was expecting some kind of fucking reward," Bryn lashed out as she stood up to pace. "FYI, I saved your life coz it was the _right_ _thing_ _to_ _do!_ Besides, how _exactly_ are you intending to 'repay' me, anyway?"

Bryn exploded into full rant mode, her brain frying like an egg in a skillet.

"You have _nothing._ You're a long helluva way from...Iceland or wherever it is you come from, stuck here in a foreign country with no I.D., no money and no job. The best part is, you claim you were raised in some kind of _Medieval_ _village_ in the middle of fucking nowhere! Also - don't try to deny it coz I've _noticed_ - you're totally fucking _clueless_ about anything belonging to the 21st Century...unless maybe it's a battle-axe, a crossbow or a suit of armor! At the rate you're going, I'm betting you know even _less_ about American culture in general," she spoke angrily, her hands poised on her hips.

"So, what the hell are you planning to 'repay' me with, Adam? Huh? Offer to be my personal _slave_ or something?" She snickered at her own absurd pun.

Flummoxed, Loki stared at Bryn with his mouth partly open, having failed to comprehend the human female's dizzying words and actions. She was mistaken of many things about him but accurate on some. It was true that he knew next to nothing about the principal workings of the modern human world he was unwillingly trapped in. She also mentioned an 'I.D.', 'money' and a 'job', words that suspiciously seemed _essential_ to his survival here on Earth. As for presenting himself as a _slave_ to Bryn in payment of his life-debt to her...

Loki could tell that the sudden resolve on his face frightened her when he stood up and approached her with a purposeful stride.

Bryn backed away nervously.

Grasping one of her hands securely in both of his, she froze where she stood as he knelt down on one knee, tilting his head up at her. He locked her helplessly in a very sincere gaze.

There were soft gasps from the couch.

"From this day forward, I, Adam Laoki..."

"Adam, what the hell are you - "

"...pledge myself to you, Brynhild Seaver, as your most humble slave."

"I...I was only _kidding_..."

"I surrender to you everything I have. I give you my body, my possessions and my mind, which are now completely _yours_ to do with as you see fit, until the day we decide that my life-debt to you is paid," Loki declared solemnly. As Bryn stood rigid, unable to move under the intensity of his stare, he slowly dipped his head and kissed her hand which was carefully cradled between his palms.

All of Bryn's emotions, along with her mind, went supernova for the _second_ time that day and it was all _way_ _too_ _much_ for her to handle!

* * *

><p>to be continued<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

***I encourage everyone to read 'Warriors and Magic Wielders" a supplemental story to this one under the Thor section!***

Loki's underwear choices were: loose boxers, boxer briefs, low-rise trunks, micro briefs and thongs. (Okay, ladies...Loki in a thong. Like we haven't thought about him wearing them.) xD

Sonata 11 in Bb, Op 22 - 2. Adagio con molta expressione

Pecorino Restaurant: triple w pecorinorestaurant dot com

LOL. Mars thinking Loki's 'bisexual.' However, because of Loki's nature, I think it's more complicated than that! What term would best describe him then? Multi-sexual or omni-sexual? Hmm.

Dun dun dun! Loki willingly pledging himself as a _slave_ to Bryn? What the heck is Loki up to? I think things just got a LOT more interesting...don't you agree? *wags eyebrows*

My supreme gratitude to all my faithful readers! Your words of encouragement keep me going!

Let Chaos Reign.


	6. A Mortal Existence, Part 2

*Avengers Fan-fiction by Kemurikat*

* * *

><p><strong>Such Fragile Creatures: Act 06 - A Mortal Existence, Part 2<strong>

* * *

><p>Overwhelmed by turbulent emotions and lightheadedness, Bryn was barely aware of the strong arms that steadied her body as she swayed to follow the tilting room. The entire penthouse suite wobbled and swirled, her legs no longer able to stand since the floor beneath her feet felt as soft and pliable as a Koosh Ball.<p>

"Breathe, darling."

"Bryn?"

"Ooh, trippy," she mumbled before her eyes slid shut.

"Oh, dear. I'll fetch the smelling salts."

The voices that surrounded her were familiar, but to her temporarily 'off-line' mind, the words that were spoken seemed like an indecipherable alien language.

Anger flaring, Alvi roughly pulled Adam aside and glared at him.

"What the hell kind of sick game are you playing?"

Gazing at an unconscious Bryn with a helpless expression, Loki ignored the uncomfortable grip to his left arm.

"Playing?"

"If you're toying with her..." Alvi's tone was menacing and protective.

"I assure you, Alvis, what I'm doing isn't a game," Loki said seriously. "Will you kindly release my arm?"

When Alvi reluctantly loosened his hold on Adam's arm, he combed his fingers briskly through his hair in exasperation, watching Mars as he tried returning Bryn to her senses.

"I can explain my actions," Loki said calmly.

"_Please,_ do that," Alvi bit back.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to wait until Bryn's more...coherent."

"Who's fault would that be? I think you sent the poor girl into cardiac arrest with that stunt you just pulled," Alvi said irately. "For a second there, Mars and I thought you were about to propose to her!"

"Propose...what?" Loki asked, clearly at a loss. ..._something other than what I intended?_

"You've got to be kidding me," Alvi said blankly, staring at Adam, dumbfounded.

"Propose _what?_" Loki asked again, glancing rapidly between Alvi and Mars.

"_Marriage_, Adam," Mars clarified. "We thought you were going to ask her to _marry_ you." He carefully waved smelling salts under Bryn's nose and she jerked her head away in reaction. "That's it, dearie, come on back."

"Oh..." Loki said, looking surprised and a bit worried. _Thor's Hammer! That would've been catastrophic! That I would ever propose marriage to a human female is ridiculous. _He paused, frowning to himself_. __Damn...I keep forgetting that I'm human now as well_.

Though the former immortal had some idea of where the future might bring him, companionship was something to consider. If, for some inexplicable reason, he discovered that there was no hope of recovering his armor or his former existence...it ultimately meant that his being marooned here on Earth would be _permanent_. He was then doomed to spend his remaining mortal years - a precise number which he'd yet to ascertain - living on this wretched mud-ball...eventually watching himself grow old and then die, his body crumbling to dust, eternally exiled from his home world.

The threat of permanent mortal exile sent a chill of absolute _dread_ shuddering throughout Loki's body.

"Bryn, darling, lay back down for a while," Alvi insisted, when she tried to sit up. "Let the dizziness pass."

"Wow...guys...I had the weirdest dream," Bryn slurred, then succumbed to a fit of helpless laughter. "I totally dreamt...that Adam there...pledged himself to me...get this...as my _slave!_" She laughed even harder, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clutched her stomach.

"Oh, dear..." Mars mumbled, glancing at Alvi with a look that said, 'I think she's fallen into the Well of Denial.'

"Uh...Brynnie...about that," Alvi spoke cautiously, kneeling down beside her on the couch. "Sadly, my darling, it _wasn't_ a dream."

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Bryn replied back with a smile that slowly faded.

"Seriously, Alvi? You're shitting me, right?"

"It wasn't a dream," he repeated slowly, staring straight into her eyes and saw the building consternation on her face. "Sorry, my darling, but Mars and I witnessed the whole thing."

Her gaze instantly flashed to Adam who stood silently nearby, his expression neutral.

"Wait wait wait...are you telling me...that Adam over there..." Bryn stopped, her eyes expanding to the size of espresso saucers. "Oh, my God." She stared off into space for a minute, disbelieving her own hazy recollection of what had happened before she fainted. "Adam...is this true?" she dared to ask.

"My troth is _binding_. I am and will be your thrall until the day we both agree that my life-debt to you is sufficiently recompensed," he declared solemnly.

From the periphery of Loki's vision, Mars had mouthed the words 'troth' and 'thrall' questioningly to Alvi, who then shrugged in bewilderment.

"Great...good for you," Bryn said offhandedly, caught somewhere between confusion and annoyance. She bent forward, resting her elbows on her knees, wedging her head between her arms and wailed, "Why the fuck do I get stuck with all the weirdos!"

_Why in Skadi's Wrath are humans so melodramatic?_ Loki thought with increasing frustration as he watched Bryn's reaction, her guardians fawning over her.

"Adam says he has a perfectly good explanation for what he's doing," Alvis said skeptically, glancing at their strange, handsome guest and crossing his arms. "Would you like to hear it? Mars and I certainly do."

Taking a deep breath, Bryn unfolded herself on the couch and sat up properly, glaring at Adam with barely contained chagrin.

"Explain away," she said with a sweep of her hand. Without hesitation, Adam strode forward and sat 'Geisha-style' on the floor in front of the couch. Perfect posture aside, she stared at his calm face warily.

"Bryn, where I come from, a life-debt is a stringent boon that _must_ be settled and I am _honor-bound_ to repay you. Accept my pledge, not as a courtesy or reward, but as a humble token of the utmost respect and gratitude I have for the brave and noble generosity you have shown me."

"Adam..." Bryn began with a sigh.

"Wait, let me finish," Loki interrupted softly. "Rather than leave me to die that night, you selflessly took me in and cared for me. All I ask is that you permit me to help _you_ now in any way that I can. Yes, I realize I have nothing to offer you as of yet, but I promise you, I _will_ do everything I can to correct that."

"You don't need to be my _slave_, Adam," Bryn said, shaking her head.

"On the contrary, our arrangement is beneficial to us both," Loki continued. "I know nothing of this place, of how it works, but _you_ do. You will act as my personal guide. In return, I am whatever you need me to be. I will be your friend, your protector, your servant, your loyal companion. Is this agreeable to you?"

Alvi and Mars stared at each other with their mouths open, then glanced at Bryn who slumped on the couch.

"I really can't deal with this right now," Bryn said tiredly, rubbing her temples.

"Does your head hurt?" Loki asked with concern, rising to his knees.

"Don't," Bryn warned, glaring at Adam, who obediently sat back down on his heels. "Oh, fuck me," she sighed, rolling her eyes with a snicker.

Loki was speechless at her crude request. He wasn't expecting to do her that task so _soon_ and in present company. Inwardly sighing, he had no choice.

"Adam, what the hell are you _doing?_" Bryn exclaimed in alarm when he began to remove his shirt.

"Didn't you want me to...?"

A deep blush colored Byrn's body from head to toe as Mars and Alvi clung to each other, trying desperately not to laugh.

"NO!" she screeched in mortification, standing abruptly to her feet and pointing a trembling finger at her deranged Science Experiment. "Sit! _Stay!_ Leave me alone you schizo!"

She figured that if she glared at him long enough, he'd forget about his silly 'slave' business and just get on with being...Adam. Although, she wasn't too sure what that really meant to her anymore. The man she rescued from the dumpster was rapidly turning into the single most fucked-up experience of her life!

Keeping her eyes on him, she backed away from the living room.

Cursing faintly for his blunder, Loki quickly pulled his shirt down, turning toward Bryn with an apologetic face as she made a hasty retreat toward her bedroom, slamming the door shut. Beside him, Mars and Alvi were in the throes of hysterics, doubled over and clutching their stomachs.

* * *

><p>Refreshed for the day, Tony Stark, Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis left the living room of the organically shaped, cliffside mansion after their catered breakfast and filed down the winding stone steps to the basement workshop, gathering around Jarvis's workstation.<p>

Inwardly, Darcy was grinning to herself, proud of her personal intervention in Jane's love-life. Her boss-friend and Stark had stayed up for almost the entire night talking to each other, but she could only speculate on their exchange since she'd graciously gone to bed early to give them privacy.

"Here's the information I have in my notebook, plus our laptops," Jane stated.

"Jarvis, begin new project. Let's call this one..." Stark paused, tapping a finger to his chin.

"Project Mjollnir?" Jane suggested as Darcy rolled her eyes.

"No can do. Waaay too obvious," Stark said with a grin.

"Where's Waldo?" Darcy giggled. Jane smacked her arm.

"Y'know...that's not bad," Stark said, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

"Are you guys serious?" Jane exclaimed, staring at her companions.

"Just in case S.H.I.E.L.D. attempts to do a random search of Jarvis's hard drive, they won't suspect to look under that title. I was gonna go the porn route but Darcy's sounds better, and again, even porn probably would've been another obvious thing."

"You're both insane," Jane remarked and gave their grinning faces a withering look.

"Insanity and Genius, is there really a difference?" Stark declared, attaching a special access key to both their laptops' USB ports. He then took Jane's notebook and walked over to a square table with a light-blue tabletop.

"Cool, huh?" Darcy told Jane as they watched in awe. Stark was quickly scanning page after page of Jane's little notebook using the brightly lit tabletop. "That's not all that table can do. It's also a 3-dimensional holographic projector that you can totally manipulate!"

"You've been playing with Jarvis, I see," Stark grinned, flipping to the last page of the notebook. "There we are."

"Yeah...well, me and Jarv have been hanging out a lot," Darcy said, nibbling at her lower lip.

Tony chuckled. "You call him, Jarv?"

"He doesn't seem to mind," Darcy said with a shrug. _It's better than Jar-Jar_.

Shaking his head, Stark swiftly tapped his keyboard, pulling up the scanned pages of Jane's notebook on his monitor. "Jarvis, categorize these notes and calculations."

"It may take some time for me to decipher the handwritten information," Jarvis answered.

"Take all the time you need," Jane interjected. "I'd rather have it done properly, y'know."

"I will take the precise time that is needed, Ms. Foster. No more, no less," Jarvis stated.

"Uh...right," Jane muttered and her brows creased irritably when Stark and Darcy snickered. "What?"

"Don't worry about it. You just haven't spent enough time around a supercomputer, but you'll get the hang of it," Darcy teased.

"There's an incoming satellite call on one of the secure lines for you, Mr. Stark," Jarvis prompted.

There was a look of concern on Tony's face.

"Patch it through to my cell. Encrypt, Monitor and Record," he instructed, tapping his handheld touch-screen. "This is Stark. Uh-huh. Really? Condition? I see." There was long pause as he listened intently to the voice from his earpiece. "I'm going to handle this personally. I'll need you to make the necessary arrangements so I can meet him immediately. Yeah. I'm sure they'll be expecting me."

He ended the conversation in somewhat of a daze.

"Tony? What's wrong?" Jane asked apprehensively. Had S.H.I.E.L.D. already discovered what they were up to?

"Have any of you ladies heard of Captain America?"

"The name sounds familiar. Oh, yeah, wasn't that dude the military's poster boy from World War 2?" Darcy said.

"He was," Stark said expectantly.

"What's Captain America got to do with anything?" Jane asked.

"It involves _me_, for starters. Y'see, Captain America wasn't just a poster boy. The man's name is Steve Rogers. He was the most unlikely civilian candidate specifically selected to be the prototype for 'Operation: Rebirth', a top secret military research project that was primarily focused on creating physically superior soldiers for homeland defense back in the 1940s. My father, Howard Stark, was part of that project along with a Dr. Abraham Erskine."

"Erskine...wait...wasn't he a Nazi scientist?" Jane said, brows knotting.

"He was, but lucky for us, Erskine defected. We gave the man asylum and funding. In return, he perfected his 'Super Soldier Serum.' It was combined with my father's invention - some kind of capsule that bombarded Rogers with controlled bursts of radiation that acted as the serum's catalyst and stabilizer. The result produced the first and _only_ functioning, genetically perfect, bonafide super-soldier."

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers forming a pyramid.

"In 1945, during a critical military operation, Captain America was labeled 'Killed In Action' after they lost radio contact with his plane over the Atlantic Ocean. That incident happened over seventy years ago. I just got a call saying that his frozen body was recovered in Antarctica, that he's currently _alive_ and kicking in a S.H.I.E.L.D. holding area near Times Square in New York City."

"Whoa," Darcy said out loud. "Talk about Quantum Leap. That poor guy's in for some _major_ culture shock."

"Is it..._safe_ for you to be telling us all this?" Jane asked. "Not that I'm complaining..."

"Part of the deal, remember? No secrets between us," Stark replied. "Whatever it takes, Jane. I need you to feel that you can trust me. Besides, for someone on the verge of helping us discover a wormhole to another universe, it's only fair that I keep you informed."

"Okay," Jane said, nodding slowly. "So...I guess you'll be out of town for a while?"

"Yeah. I have to stay in the loop and figure out what S.H.I.E.L.D.'s next move is," Stark said, standing. "I'm leaving tonight. I'm sure you two can hold the fort here with Jarvis till I get back."

"Yessir, Bossman. We've got this place locked down," Darcy said proudly.

"I bet you do," Stark grinned. "Whatever you need, just call Happy. For everything else, Jarvis can handle it. Also, Pepper'll be dropping by every so often."

He thumbed quickly through the messages on his cellphone as he gathered various items around his office and workshop.

"Tony," Jane called out as Stark headed toward one of his sports cars with the keys. "Be careful."

He froze, staring at Jane with a warm expression. Darcy grinned and quickly gave him a 'thumbs-up' as she stood quietly behind her friend.

"I'll do that," Stark replied with a bright smile and a wink, turning away to hop into his military green Lamborghini Aventador. He waved goodbye, blasting through his garage ramp with a roaring engine and a squeal of rubber.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe I did that," Loki remarked, somewhat crestfallen, staring at Bryn's locked door as he stood beside the couch in the living room.<p>

"I'm starting to believe there's nothing you _can't_ do," Alvi said, still grinning along with Mars to Adam's earlier (near) striptease.

"I must apologize to her," Loki said determinedly, taking a step forward.

"Adam, wait," Mars said, urgently rushing forward and snagging his arm. "You should give Bryn some space. Let her come out on her own. Smothering her will only make things worse." He glanced at his spouse sympathetically when Adam conceded with a nod, looking a bit defeated.

"Darling, I know just the thing to cheer him up," Alvi said brightly and briskly left for their master bedroom.

"Would you like a drink? Maybe something...strong_?_" Mars asked, walking to a cabinet in the living room and opening it to reveal several bottles filled with hard liquor.

Loki recalled how his brother Thor sometimes 'drowned his sorrows' by drinking barrels of Duergar ale till he was in a happy, drunken stupor. It was a crude and disgusting method of comfort that he refused to try himself, despite how annoyingly Thor repeatedly asked him to.

_Ah, well...it's not like Heimdall's going to tell him._

"I'll have a glass," Loki relented with a sigh and sat in the center of the leather couch with a heavy plop. Despite his stubborn refusal in the past to succumb to the comfort of hard liquor, at the moment, he was feeling especially wretched.

"You don't strike me as much of a drinker," Mars said observantly as he rooted through the liquor cabinet.

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"It's just a feeling I get," Mars said sprightly. "Over the years, I've learned to trust these little feelings of mine. They've gotten me out of many tight spots in my life...as well as pleasantly into them..." He'd mumbled the last part with a grin, clearing his throat and blushing slightly at his suggestive play on words. "Here we are."

Selecting a 750 milliliter bottle of Grand Marnier Cuvée Du Centenaire, Mars poured the rich, amber liquid into two crystal, long-stemmed, tulip-like liqueur glasses. For the third crystal glass, which was wider, stouter and short-stemmed, he poured a generous amount of Remy Martin XO Excellence Cognac.

Alvi returned to the living room toting a thick, letter-sized manila envelope, tossing it onto the tempered glass tabletop of their low, modernly stylish coffee table.

"On to drinking now, are we?" Alvis grinned, taking his glass of cognac and sitting on the couch to Adam's right. Mars sat on Adam's left side, neatly crossing his legs and sipping at his glass.

The pair watched as their handsome guest closed his eyes, inhaled the aroma of the amber liqueur he was given and took a sip, rolling the liquid on his tongue before swallowing. When his eyes fluttered open, Adam gazed at his drink with a moment's hesitation before tipping his head back and downing the rest of the little glass's contents. Sitting on either side of him, the happily married same-sex couple raised their eyebrows in unison.

"Would you like a bigger glass?" Alvi asked with a slight smile.

"No. This will do...but I may need to keep refilling it," Loki replied, giving Alvis a loaded side-glance.

Chuckling, Alvi stood to his feet and fished out the bottle of Grand Marnier Cuvée Du Centenaire from the cabinet, pouring Adam a fresh drink. When their handsome guest downed it again, he was given a third.

"Do I leave this on the floor by your feet?" Alvi suggested, holding out the liqueur bottle. His face seemed permanently plastered with an amused half-smile.

"Perhaps you should. I'm tempted to drink straight from the source," Loki said sourly.

"A bigger glass it is then," Alvi quipped, retrieving a brandy glass similar to his and filling it near to the brim with the liqueur.

"You should go easy on that stuff," Mars requested gently, placing a hand on Adam's arm. "It's obvious you're upset."

"Why would I be upset? It's not like I nearly disrobed in front of everyone thinking Bryn wanted me to..." Loki replied disparagingly, downing his third glass of liqueur. He nimbly twirled the small, empty tulip-shaped glass in his fingers as he covetously eyed the full, brandy-sized glass in Alvi's hand.

Loki watched as Werner snatched away the smaller glass he tossed about with his fingers, placing it out of reach on the coffee table. The man then threw a thick envelope at him which he caught reflexively.

"What's this?" Loki asked, looking mildly at the wrinkled paper parcel.

"Tell you what, if you're still upset after opening that envelope, I'll give you this glass and even park the bottle at your feet," Alvi said, sitting back down on Adam's right side, placing the liqueur-filled brandy glass and bottle next to his cognac on an end table beside the couch.

Tearing apart the envelope, Loki stared in confusion as various pieces of paper and little...'plastic' rectangles spilled onto his lap. He briefly examined each of them, discarding the torn envelope to the floor.

"What exactly am I looking at?" Loki asked, holding up one of the small, plastic rectangles.

"Your new I.D.," Alvi said proudly. There was a flicker of acknowledgment in their handsome guest's expression. "This is your local Birth Certificate, your Social Security card and your Passport. Once they're completed, these three _very_ _important_ documents will certify you as a repatriated American citizen living in San Francisco. As for your accent, you'll simply explain to people that you were raised in England, moved to Iceland briefly and came back recently to rediscover the land of your birth. Also, to save you the initial hassle, I took the liberty of getting you a Driver's License, a Bank Account and a Credit Card. Once you've successfully adapted to your new life here, it will be up to you to renew some of these documents. For example, you'll need to reapply for your Driver's License _before_ the time of the 'expiration date' printed here."

While sipping his drink, Mars observed Adam as he listened carefully to what Alvi was saying with an eager concentration on his face. Thankfully, their handsome guest also seemed calmer and less upset.

"This is excellent," Loki said with a grateful smile. "Now that I have my I.D., I can concentrate on searching for 'money' and a 'job.'" He saw the exchange of knowing glances between his two male hosts.

"We can help you out in those areas too, if you like." It was Mars's turn to speak.

"Are you referring to the 'club' you both own downstairs?" Loki replied, falling back on what Bryn had told him.

"That's right," Mars said. "We'll start you out the same way we helped Bryn, by teaching you the club's administration work. If you can handle that, you can move onto other areas of the club that you're interested in or to other jobs in the city."

"As for the money, you'll be paid based on your performance," Alvi explained. "Mars and I are generous employers, so you don't have to worry too much about rates and such. You'll be well compensated for your efforts."

Loki reflected on what they'd told him as he reexamined every piece of his new I.D. on his lap. Alvis's and Marius's help was invaluable since it saved him the precious time he would've wasted to obtain the silly human items.

Why must he need pieces of paper or plastic to tell other people who he was? Why was it the business of complete strangers to know what he did with himself? In the World of Yggdrasil, one could freely choose to remain anonymous or openly declare one's intentions. On Asgard, everyone knew one another to some degree, thus there was no need for the notion of an 'I.D.'

_Nothing escapes the watchful eyes and ears of Heimdall or of Odin's many spies. Well...almost nothing_, he snickered mentally.

"Alvis, it appears you were right," Loki stated with a small smile. "I do feel much better after opening your envelope."

Feeling warm and fuzzy from accomplishment, Werner grinned, passing Adam his liqueur-filled brandy glass. "A toast to your new life here, then?" He raised his glass and declared, "To new beginnings."

"To a new beginning," Loki replied with a dramatically cheerful smile, the three of them clinking their glasses together. Instead of sipping his drink, he rapidly emptied his glass, his outward expression of contentment expertly masking the turmoil and apprehension he truly felt.

"Whoa, easy there now," Alvis remarked with a slight wince. "Don't think I've ever seen anyone chug down an entire glassful of Grand Marnier before."

"Ooooh. That must burn," Mars said, placing a hand on his neck.

Clearing his throat, Loki resisted the urge to throw his glass at something to simply watch it break, as his brother Thor often did after a good cup of wine.

_I've tasted stronger._

Slumping low on the couch, Loki felt surprisingly mellower, his body and lips tingling as a creeping numbness mildly overshadowed him. He stared at the many reflections on the clear surface of his brandy glass.

"Someone's nice and groovy," Mars observed with amusement.

"Adam?" Alvi ventured after a long moment of silence.

"Mmm?"

"Were you truly about to..." He briefly cleared his throat. "...initiate sex with Bryn..._here _in our living room?"

"If she'd truly wanted me to...then yes, I would have," Loki replied slowly.

"Merciful Heavens! With us...here..._w__atching_ you?" Mars exclaimed in amazement.

"Had her request been something she truly wished me to do...then I'd gladly do it for her," Loki repeated patiently, still staring at his glass.

"Sex-On-Demand? Good Lord," Alvis muttered, his eyebrows migrating to the top of his head as he took a long drink of his cognac. His spouse's mouth simply hung open in disbelief. "You're really taking this entire 'slave' business _seriously_, aren't you?"

Closing his eyes with a tired sigh, Loki went limp on the couch in frustration.

"Believe me or don't believe me...I don't much care," he mumbled faintly, raising an arm and placing it across his eyes.

"Mars and I _do_ care if Bryn's directly involved in your shenanigans," Alvi replied with rising anger. Adam turned his head, removing his arm to stare at him with a creased brow as he shimmied up from his slumped position.

"Alvis, I have nothing but the _best_ intentions for Brynhild. What I'm doing - "

"Is bat-shit _loco_."

The three men on the couch quickly snapped their heads toward her voice.

"Bryn," Loki said, standing instantly but rather unsteadily, his empty brandy glass dangling loosely from one hand. She stood barefoot with her arms crossed on a thin metal rail embedded in the floor that surrounded the living room.

"How long have you been there?" Mars asked in concern.

"Long enough," Bryn replied, marching toward Adam. "You wanna be my slave? Okay, then. Let's do it your way."

She knew it was unhealthy to cater to the delusions of anyone with mental instability, but in the case of her personal Science Experiment, she threw caution to the wind and was willing to give Adam's new role as her 'slave' a good Girl Scout try. Besides, she'd already broken so many rules, what's a few more?

Taking the empty glass dangling from Adam's hand, Bryn passed it to Alvis who promptly took it.

"Come on, I need your help packing up the rest of my stuff from my basement apartment," she said, grabbing hold of Adam's wrist. "Then, I have to figure out what to tell my landlord when he comes back from Brazil."

"Here, take the MDX," Alvi said quickly, sprinting to a magnetic key holder attached to the wall in the kitchen, nicking a set of keys free and tossing them to Bryn. "There's more room in the SUV for your stuff and it's better on gas than your hotrod."

"Are you sure?" she said, overwhelmed by her guardians' repeated generosity.

"Please, dear, go ahead," Mars insisted. "Alvi and I don't mind one bit."

"Thanks," she answered shyly. Still holding onto Adam's hand, she glanced at him from head to toe. "We're gonna do some heavy lifting and getting all sweaty and stuff. You gonna be comfortable in those clothes?"

"I don't see why not," Loki replied, then remembered the couch and pointed to the items that were scattered around where he'd sat. "Look, Bryn. Alvis has provided me with my new I.D.," he added proudly.

"Yeah?" Bryn said, walking over to the couch and examining the various documents. "Holy Shit. How'd you _get_ all this?" She stared at Alvi. "Is this _legal?_"

"It's all genuine," Alvi reassured her. "I just need to get Adam's picture taken and voilà, he's set. My contact owes me a same-day service. I just have to notify him whenever I'm ready."

"Meaning...you have to go back to whoever did these documents to fucking-knows-where," Mars said sourly, downing the rest of his drink.

"Darling, please, we've been over this," Alvi wheedled carefully. "If it's any consolation, I won't be alone this time since Adam's coming with me."

"You're taking Adam with you...to where you refuse take _me_?" Mars clarified with a frown. "Fabulous."

Sighing audibly, Alvi ushered Adam and Bryn away from the living room and into the foyer, watching as Mars strode past them briskly to the master bedroom, slamming their en suite door shut.

"I'm sorry, Adam, but you and Bryn had best get going. I'd rather you both weren't here while I talk to Mars," Alvi said softly, his face apologetic.

"Sure," Bryn replied, towing Adam quickly to his room and opening his closet. "Let's see if they gave you comfortable shoes to wear...here we go." She swiped a pair from the carpeted floor of the walk-in: black Cole Haan 'Air Ryder Driver Venetian' leather slip-ons with a tire-tread designed rubber sole. "Your look doesn't exactly go with sneakers, so these'll do nicely."

If Adam insisted on playing her 'slave,' Bryn was definitely taking full advantage of having Mr. Man-Candy following her around dressed in whatever the hell she wanted. _Fuck, yes!_ The guy wasn't modest to begin with, so she could get creative...and her mind immediately dove down the gutter. _Gah!_ One thing at a time. Her first priority was getting her stuff.

"These are very comfortable," Loki commented, examining the fit and feel of his new leather shoes just before he was tugged out of his room by Bryn's firm hold on his wrist. _I suppose she's in a bit of hurry_, he thought with a chuckle.

"Come on, I wanna get this shit done before sundown," Bryn said, towing Adam quickly through the condo's double-doors and into their private penthouse elevator, jamming her finger on a button that sent them straight to the building's parking garage.

Inside the elevator, Bryn noted how Adam looked around warily, clinging to the corner like a nervous cat. He's never been in an elevator? Now that she thought about it, this was her Science Experiment's first trip outside the safety of their suite. Oh, joy!

The penthouse elevator doors pinged open and Bryn strode out, then skidded to an abrupt halt, Adam nearly slamming into her. She was a picture of pure astonishment when she surveyed her surroundings.

"No fricking way," she blurted out loud, her voice echoing in the underground car park. "They own _eight_ spaces?"

She wandered in a daze toward the parking section assigned to her guardians, staring at eight vehicle spaces spray-tagged with the word 'Penthouse' in bold, red letters.

Spotting her guardians' familiar matching Honda CR-Z hybrids, she nearly dropped her keys when she saw the make and model of the car parked beside her late father's red 1969 Mustang Mach One.

"An Aston Martin DB9?" Bryn exclaimed. _Is Alvi seriously going through a James Bond midlife crisis I don't know about?_ As she stared at the car's black finish, a vague memory popped into her head. It was the same car she followed home when -

Oh. Crap.

Mentally smacking herself, she had totally forgotten about the state of her bedroom. It was the same way she'd left it the night Adam had his epic psychotic breakdown! Nibbling worriedly on her lower lip, Bryn debated whether it was wise to let her new 'slave' see the destruction his fit had caused, wondering if he'd have a relapse.

"Something the matter?" Loki asked, puzzled about the strange expression on the human female's face. Glancing at the vehicles around him, he shared some of whatever her trepidation was, but for a different reason. After his experience in the elevator, he wasn't too keen on entering an automobile with Bryn behind the wheel.

After checking the percentage of her cellphone battery, she unlocked the SUV's doors with her key-remote, startling Adam with the sharp chirp that flooded the building's car park.

"Come on, let's get this over with," Bryn said, climbing into the driver's seat of the metallic-blue Acura iTech MDX and starting the engine.

Forcing down his nervousness, Loki cautiously sat in the SUV's passenger seat as Bryn reached over him to pull sturdy straps of material across his body that fastened him to his seat with a click. Being physically held down inside the belly of a _thing_ created by human technology made him uneasy.

He watched as her fingers pushed a few buttons on the vehicle's dashboard and a rush of cool air filled the SUV's interior. Colorful lights and a digital diagram on a dynamically lit square were brightly visible, his eyes roaming over every symbol.

"Okay, here we go," Bryn said, peeling loudly out of the building's car park.

Clinging tightly to a handle above his window - the fingers of his other hand digging into his leather seat - Loki sat stiffly as their SUV swerved swiftly past other vehicles along the busy street.

"Must we move so fast?" His voice sounded worried.

"The sooner we get there, the sooner things get done," Bryn replied simply, blaring her horn at a vehicle who attempted to cut her off and flashing the other driver her middle finger salute. "Right-of-way, asshole!"

When the other driver responded with his own finger, she ignored it with a snort.

"I'm guessing that's a rude gesture?" Loki asked curiously, trying to calm his racing heartbeat with distracting idle chatter.

"Yup. The rudest it gets this side of the pond," Bryn stated. "I think in parts of Europe they use their arms."

"Ah."

"You're not looking too good over there," she commented casually with a glance.

"Do tell," Loki replied flatly. "I wonder why that is."

"Wait till I take you Bungie Jumping," she muttered with a grin, Adam jerking his head in her direction, his brows crunching together.

Their SUV arrived at its destination in one piece, Bryn backing up the vehicle on the driveway for easier loading.

"I've got stacks of empty boxes in my storage closet," she mentioned. "We should get those out first."

Tying her hair back in a loose pony tail, she opened up the SUV's rear hatch and crawled inside to collapse the back seats. Her tight jeans hugged her backside as she bent over, Loki stealing an appreciative glance.

Taking a deep breath before she opened her basement apartment door, Bryn stepped inside slowly. Flicking on the main light switch, it was an eerie feeling of déjà vu when she saw the dirty tea cups on the kitchen counter and the soft, quilted cotton blanket strewn on the couch. The blanket was something her late mother had made for her as a college dorm room cozy. The night of Adam's fit, she'd used it to tightly wrap her shaking body for comfort as she rocked herself back and forth in shock until her guardians showed up to fetch her. Though the blanket was one of the few keepsakes that remained of her mother, it currently served as a reminder of what she'd gone through with Adam and she'd reluctantly left it behind.

Walking measuredly toward her former bedroom, memories of that night replayed itself in her head like a bizarre horror reel, leaving her cold and fearful. The door had been left wide open as she stopped at the threshold and hitched a breath, her hand gripping the door-frame tightly as she stared inside. Behind her, she heard Adam's approaching footsteps stop mid-stride.

"Bryn...what..._happened_ here?" His voice sounded stressed.

"I guess you don't remember," she replied softly without turning around. She felt Adam moving in for a closer look, his hand laying on her shoulder as he gently nudged her aside.

She saw Adam's disturbed expression as his head moved simultaneously with his eyes as they scanned the devastation of her bedroom. Her hand flew to her mouth in reaction when he gasped sharply as he bent down to touch an area of the carpeted floor stained red with dried blood. Lifting his left hand, he stared at the scarred skin on his knuckles and fingers with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Panting in agitation, he crawled on his hands and knees, eyes feverishly searching her bedroom floor until he found what he was looking for. He sat down heavily and with shaking fingers, picked up a small, metal syringe partially hidden under the remnants of a torn pillow. There was dried blood covering most of the syringe's short needle.

Releasing the metal syringe as if it burned him, Loki's fingers flew to the side of his neck and he rubbed on an area where he felt a sudden remembered sting.

"Adam..." Bryn said cautiously, her thumb poised on the quick-dial button to her guardians' penthouse suite. "Stay calm. You weren't yourself that night."

"That..._night_..." Loki grated out, his eyes pinching shut as sporadic images flashed in his head accompanied by piercing pain. "Nnnnnghhhh."

"Crap crap crap," Bryn muttered worriedly as she hovered next to him, warring over her instinct to wait it out or to prudently speed-dial Alvi.

Clamping his palms against his head like a vise, Loki doubled over, clenching his teeth after he involuntarily cried out, beleaguered by the hidden memories of what he'd forgotten as they mercilessly surged forward.

_That...night..._

He grimaced as he stood up clumsily, still gripping his head, only to stumble, his back thudding loudly against reinforced drywall as his legs gave out and he slid to the floor.

_I...that night...I was...Odin's Fury...my...head! It feels like...it's splitting apart! _

Watching helplessly with tears in her eyes, Bryn knelt down beside a cringing Adam as he moaned against her bedroom wall, clutching at his head as if he was attempting to keep it from flying off his shoulders. When he began slamming the back of his skull against the wall like a bludgeon, she bravely rushed forward without thinking.

"Adam, _stop!_ Stop! You're hurting yourself! Stop it! _Adam!_" Bryn shouted frantically, distraught, her hands trying to prevent him from physically cracking his skull open.

The instant Loki's ears recognized Bryn's frenzied screams, he froze.

"...Adam?"

He felt cool, trembling fingers combing the hair away from his damp face and trying to pry loose his hands which seemed cemented to his head.

After a long moment, his arms fell to his sides like lead weights.

Panting softly, Loki's eyes stayed shut, his head throbbing in waves as he felt disoriented and nauseous, his limp body leaning against Bryn's bedroom wall. He was like a child's unwanted toy discarded carelessly to the floor.

"I...I know...I remember now...what happened...here," Loki said weakly, shaken by the horrific images of the memories he'd regained.

"Adam - "

"I was so...so _angry_...and I had..._hurt_ you," he added clearly as his eyelids raised sluggishly. The striking green of his irises gazed sadly at her and wandered to the fading scratches on her bare arms. "I could have killed you that night."

"Well, you didn't," Bryn reassured him slowly. "Besides, you weren't yourself."

"To think...that I had lost...complete control of myself," Loki said blankly in total disbelief, the remorse and fear on his face mingled with worry.

"Hey," she said softly, trapping his right hand tightly in a reassuring grip. "It's gonna be fine. Alvi, Mars and I - we're here to help you, Adam. Whatever it takes. Okay?"

"It's too dangerous," Loki replied softly, shaking his head. "_I_ am dangerous. I can't risk you getting hurt or _worse_, if I ever lose control like that again."

"Oh-ho, no," Bryn said angrily. "Don't you _dare_ pull a bullshit 'for my own safety' disappearing act on me...on all of us!"

"I? Disappear?" Loki said with a slight chuckle.

_In my mortal state? Not likely, since I've yet to determine if I retained any trace of my magic in my present form. Disappear? On some days...I wish I could._

"Fear not, Bryn, for I shan't be 'disappearing' from you or your guardians' care so soon. I truly have nowhere else to go," he added slowly, shrugging with a self-deprecating little smile.

"...oh..." Bryn whispered, mentally kicking herself for her outburst.

"May I ask you something?" Loki asked, gaining her full attention. "If another day arrives when I begin to lose myself in the same manner as I did here...swear to me that you _will_ call for help. Do _not_ attempt to tackle me _alone_ like than again."

With a grunt, he leaned forward and clasped her hands to stretch out her arms toward him, staring at the jagged scabs and diminished welts on her skin.

"Promise me," he said gently but firmly.

Mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze that seemed to burn right through her, Bryn was struck speechless and all she could do at first was nod vigorously.

"I'll call for help. I promise," she said quickly, forcing the words from her mouth.

"Good," Loki replied and struggled to stand. His body felt drained of strength and his head badly ached, but he'd rather not dwell on it. "Now, let's finish packing your things."

"No, it's okay. You should rest. We can come back tomorrow."

"I _insist_. You had an urgency to get here. On top of that, I've been bedridden long enough. I'd rather move around."

"Are you sure?" She was still unconvinced as she helped him to his feet.

"Bryn, just keep me busy."

For the next hour, the pair systematically packed Bryn's basement apartment, leaving her bedroom for last. Between the two of them, they'd managed to neatly seal and load several boxes into the SUV in record time.

"Well, damn. I can't believe we got so much done," Bryn said happily. Much of their speed had to do with Adam seamlessly following her instructions without protest, and his clever suggestions to make things more efficient. Luckily, her basement apartment was mostly furnished by its previous owner, with the exception of her comfy IKEA couch which she'd decided to leave, sparing the two of them the need to lug around any heavy furniture.

"That's the last box from the kitchen," Loki said, hopping down from the back of the SUV.

She'd watched him fit the mid-sized box perfectly into place like a Jenga block.

"How's your hand and shoulder?"

"Both in good shape," Loki reminded her with amusement. "Stop fussing."

"I can't help it," Bryn replied as they walked casually past her empty kitchen. "Technically, you're still recovering and I don't want you to strain yourself."

"With every passing day, I feel this body getting stronger," he reassured her. _At least, as strong as a mortal form can get._ "There's no need to coddle me."

"Coddle? Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting that you've memorized an entire Dictionary," Bryn giggled, turning away to roll her eyes. She stopped abruptly at the threshold of her bedroom door. "Last but not the least," she mumbled, staring at the bloodied spot on her carpeted floor. "Crap. We're gonna have to come back for that. I don't have any cleaning solution strong enough for blood stains."

"Concentrate on packing the things in your bedroom. Leave the blood to me," Loki instructed, rolling up his sleeves. _It seems I'm back to Asgardian red which, strangely enough, is similar in color to human blood._

He tried not to think about the black mass he'd vomited out after he'd awoken from his chemically induced sleep.

"No, it's okay. I'm not gonna make you do that..." she protested.

"That's _my_ blood on your carpet, Bryn. After all the trouble you went through to subdue me that night, it's the least I can do," he insisted, heading straight for the kitchen.

Although curious about how Adam was going to tackle dried, crusty blood stains on carpet, Bryn decided that the faster she packed up her bedroom, the faster she could help out with the cleanup.

She began by emptying her closet and dumping her clothes in a big pile near the living room for easier sorting. Glancing at her companion, Adam was on his hands and knees patiently scrubbing out the blood stain with a rag and a bucket of water.

Using a makeshift stepladder built with a chair on top of an end table, Bryn took down the many shoe-boxes that were stacked on the highest shelf in her closet.

"Shit!" Bryn cursed when an older shoe-box she'd reached for broke apart in her hands, scattering its contents all over her closet floor, the objects fluttering everywhere like autumn leaves. _Nice one, klutz._

Swallowing back a building lump in her throat, she quickly gathered the fallen pictures, trying her best not to look at each of the images too long.

"Photographs," Loki said curiously, picking up one that had drifted beside him. He found it rather whimsical that humans had developed a way of capturing, in such great detail, the exact likeness of someone or something on such a small piece of paper.

On the particular one he held, Loki saw Bryn's smiling face covered in heavy cosmetics as she sat beside an older, well-dressed man at a table. Her hair was much lighter, a dark blonde, and she wore a red dress that made her look very pretty. (halter-top, low décolletage, formfitting waist with a thin, silver rhinestone belt, her skirt flaring out to two inches above her knees; her jewelry, shoes and purse match the belt)

"Let's see that," Bryn said, trying her best to seem casual but she was on the verge of crying. She just _had_ to drop the shoe-box filled with pictures of her late parents.

When she saw the photo that Adam found, she recoiled and instantly ripped it furiously into little pieces.

_An interesting reaction_, Loki thought. "I'm guessing you're not fond of that man in the photograph?"

"No," was her terse reply as she continued picking up the other scattered pictures, deliberately turning away from her nosey companion.

"Was...that the man who hurt you?"

Bryn froze as dark memories shot to the surface and she sank to the floor in a pale, sobbing heap. The pictures of her late parents combined with a face that she desperately wished to forget had completely overwhelmed her.

Rushing to her side, Loki embraced her trembling body in his arms, her hands masking her face as she cried against his chest. He held her to him and waited until the anxiety of her emotions slowly subsided.

"Forgive me, Bryn. My curiosity often leaves me tactless and careless," he spoke softly as he rubbed her back in slow, measured circles, his chin resting lightly on her head. "Where I come from, it would be extremely dishonorable for anyone to physically hurt or mentally abuse another, especially women and children."

"Sure. Coz...these days...there are so _many_ 'honorable' people...out there," Bryn said sarcastically between sobs.

"I would like to believe there are. People simply need to find the courage to do what's honorable."

"Coming from someone...who's obviously been living in a _bubble_," Bryn said with a frown, moving away from the security of Adam's embrace, and quickly wiping away the tears from her eyes and cheeks.

"Every living, sentient being has the capacity to distinguish between what is good and what is not. Our choices are what separate us and define us as individuals."

"Spare that lecture for the man who _chose_ beat the living shit out of me," Bryn answered angrily.

"Tell me what happened," Loki asked gently.

"Why? Didn't Alvi tell you?"

"I hadn't pressed him for details. Since it's a delicate subject, I thought it was best to ask you directly."

Looking away from Adam's sincere gaze, Bryn stood to her feet and glanced at the barely visible blood stains on her bedroom carpet.

"You can hardly see the red anymore," she said, amazed. _How'd he do that?_

"I'll deal with the last of that stain later. I'd rather hear your story for now."

"All right," Bryn said with a sigh. _He won't let up if I keep dodging him anyway. Let's get this over with_. "I'm making tea. Want some?"

"Allow me," Loki replied, gesturing to the couch.

"No, really, it's fine..."

"Bryn, have seat," he coaxed with a smile. "I know you're perfectly capable of making us a pot of tea but I'm offering to do it. Indulge me."

"Okay, okay. Go ahead and...'indulge' yourself," Bryn said tiredly, hardly in the mood to argue any further. Dropping heavily on the couch, she bunched up her mother's blanket, draping it over her shoulders like a giant shawl. Leaning back and closing her eyes, she listened to Adam's movements in the kitchen as he went about making them some tea.

"How would you like your cup?" Loki asked after he'd poured the boiling water and was waiting for the tea to steep.

"A quarter milk and a heaping spoonful of sugar," she called out, massaging her temples.

When Bryn heard Adam approaching, she opened her eyes, accepting the steaming cup on its matching saucer and placing them in her lap. She watched Adam as he made himself comfortable on the couch beside her, his cup and saucer resting between his legs after he'd taken a sip. He'd slipped off his shoes, leaned himself against the armrest with his back propped by a large cushion. His right leg was bent and resting against the couch's backrest while his left leg was stretched out casually, his socked foot almost touching her.

She remained slouched, wrapped snugly in her late mother's blanket with no desire to move.

"The guy's name was Arthur Keel. He was a regular patron at the club and used to watch me dance every night I was onstage."

"You're a dancer?" Loki said with interest.

"Just one thing at a time, please?" Bryn said irritably.

"Pardon my interruption," he replied calmly and steadily, catering to her temperamentally heightened emotional state.

"Anyway, we started with small talk and he'd buy me drinks at the bar. After a couple of nights, our conversations got longer and before I knew it, I'd accepted a dinner date with him. He was quite a charmer. Well-dressed, loaded, successful corporate job, a good catch for any woman who was interested. At the time, all his attention was focused on me, so naturally, I was flattered and got swept away. He was a model gentlemen and generous with his gifts. Dresses, shoes, jewelry; all designer-made, gorgeous and expensive. I was so naive. I thought that he genuinely _liked_ me. I didn't notice the subtle changes in him until it was too late."

She shifted on the couch, curling up and leaning the left side of her body against the couch's backrest, facing Adam. She placed her cup and saucer carefully beside her.

"I totally blinded myself to the dark side of him for a long time. It was only when I sat down one night and thought about it...that I realized how manipulative and cold the bastard actually was. He never saw me as a person. I was nothing more than a plaything. His 'Personal Property.' Arrogant bastard thought that he'd 'bought' me with all the pricey crap he'd given me."

Pausing her story, Bryn took a sip of hot tea and seemed to be mentally debating whether or not to continue.

"I know that talking about a deeply troubling part of your past is making you very uncomfortable. We can stop if you - "

"No. I _want_ to talk about it," Bryn said determinedly. "I don't want to bottle any of it up anymore."

She took a longer sip of her tea.

"Why haven't you spoken to Alvi or Mars about this before? Why tell _me_ now? I'm more of a stranger to you than they are, surely."

"See, that's the thing. The minute _you_ moved in with us, I've learned more about Alvi, Mars and even myself in the last three days than I've ever had in the last year and a half," Bryn remarked in amazement, narrowing her eyes. "There's...I dunno...something about you...that makes us wanna spill our guts out. Why is that?"

"I...certainly hope that my presence...truly doesn't make any of you wish to disembowel yourselves."

"Huh?" Bryn had a look of pure confusion and astonishment on her face.

"'Spill your guts?'"

"Oh..._Oh,_" she said, when it suddenly clicked. Adam spoke with such a serious, straight face that she hadn't caught what he meant. Wait-a-minute. Did he say that to deliberately derail her train-of-thought? On top of that, when had her mood gotten..._lighter_? Especially when she was in the middle of dredging up her dark, nasty chapters with Keel. Glancing at Adam, there seemed to be a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. _You sneaky bugger. You were trying to make me feel better? Well, it worked._

Loki innocently took a generous sip of his tea when Bryn began staring at him. After a long moment, she resumed her story.

"Keel was a Blue Ribbon asshole. That's even putting it mildly," Bryn said with a frown. "He began with mental and emotional abuse...then graduated to physically pummeling me like a punching bag. Of course, he made sure that wherever he hit me, it didn't bruise or scar. He had a squeaky clean reputation to hide behind." She looked away when Adam gazed at her with concern. "I was even stupid enough to cover up what he was doing to me back then. My self-esteem was next to zero."

With a soft plink, Loki's empty tea cup landed on its saucer as he got up and placed the items near the sink.

"Alvis told me that you were nearly beaten to death. If Keel was so careful, what made him careless?"

"Easy. I decided to fight back," Bryn answered. "I woke up one day, stopped feeling pathetic, mentally scolded myself and wanted _out_ of the whole mess. The minute Keel saw how rebellious I was getting, he flew into a rage. I think he was expecting me to wither away and shrivel up like a raisin. Instead, the whole experience woke me up and made me stronger. I think that's what pissed him off the most."

Walking back to the couch, Loki half-sat on the backrest, leaning forward on his arms.

"Has Arthur Keel been incarcerated by your laws as Mars's father, Stuart Acton?"

"...no..." was her barely heard reply. She stared fixedly a worn patch on her blanket.

"What?" Loki's said in surprise, his anger building.

"...I was barely conscious by the time Alvi got to me. I heard a nasty fight...but I know Alvi beat the hell out of Keel. Then, I was picked up and brought to the hospital. When I woke up after a day or two...Alvi said that Keel was taken care of...and I left it at that. I...then I did my best to...to just _forget_," Bryn shrugged.

"The fact that Arthur Keel is free to roam and more than likely repeating his vile actions to someone else...I highly doubt that you're satisfied with that outcome," Loki said loudly in outrage.

"Hey, calm down! Alvi did the best he could, okay? Keel's got connections and if that rich asshole had gotten killed that night, guess who'd be in jail right now: _Alvi_," Bryn replied angrily.

"Then your laws are clearly _flawed_."

"Preach that to Congress, Adam. Best of luck," she bit back.

"At the very _least_, Alvis should have permanently broken Keel's legs."

Bryn stared at Adam in mild shock, even if she secretly agreed with what he'd said.

Clenching his fists in frustration, Loki had the overwhelming urge to hit something. Had his magical abilities stayed with him, he would've easily located the degenerate brute that harmed Bryn, rendering the beast immobile as he slowly burned away the animal's body limb by limb. The resulting agony would have been a delicious spectacle. A fitting punishment that Keel deserved, who was nothing more to him than rotting carrion.

"Adam?" she asked cautiously. His body language suggested barely contained rage.

"I need air," Loki said, abruptly turning for the door and heading outside.

She slowly followed Adam to the doorway of her basement apartment but hovered at the threshold. He was pacing restlessly behind the SUV until he stopped, took a few deep breaths, then leaned forward heavily with his hands splayed out on the lip of the vehicle's cargo area. A large part of her was deeply touched, and a little amazed, that Adam showed such empathy for what had happened to her. There was also the part that worried about his consistently Medieval sense of justice.

Even with his eyes closed, Loki knew that Bryn was watching him as he mentally berated himself for his outburst. He'd spent centuries perfecting control over his emotions, but in his current human form, everything he felt seemed to be magnified a thousandfold. Perhaps his forced exile had made him highly unstable and more irritable than he thought possible. Then again...why wouldn't it?

The best solution was for him to find an ideal 'outlet' for his volatile human psyche. Living in Asgard, whenever he was frustrated or restless, he'd find release battling the Valkyrie, Sif, The Warriors Three or even his brother. He even occasionally returned to the Plain of Vigrid on his worst days. (He'd perfected his Cloaking Spells, becoming invisible to anyone who was looking for him in Vigrid - a strictly enforced 'no trespassing' zone allocated for Ragnarok.) Sometimes, he sought out a more sensual form of comfort in the arms of Hildr (a Valkyrie General) or in the warmth of Freya's bed and her expert counsel.

Now that he was human and living on Earth...what would he do? It's not like he could find the nearest thug and break his neck. Apparently, the humans have certain laws for that kind of violent behavior, the same laws that were particularly flawed when it protected wealthier, despicable citizens from their misdeeds to 'regular' society.

When he felt Bryn's quiet presence drawing near him, he turned around and hopped to sit on the lip of the SUV's cargo area.

"Forgive me...I seem to have...overreacted," Loki said slowly.

"You know...I find it kind of amazing that...you're so mad," Bryn said shyly.

"Of course, it made me angry! What happened to you was horribly unjust and had I been there that night instead of Alvis - "

"Then _you'd_ be in jail right now, the same way Alvis would've been if either of you murdered Keel," she argued back. "Trust me, I want that bastard deader than dead if there was _any_ way I could make that happen! It's not like I can go call a 24-hour Assassins-For-Hire hotline and order a hit on Keel. Fuck. The FBI, CIA, NSA, whatever, could easily trace that shit back to me, then _I'd_ be behind bars. I have more than enough catastrophes I can handle in my life, thank you very much."

There was a span of silence as Loki stared reflectively at the late afternoon sky and Bryn had hopped up onto the SUV to sit beside him.

"How about we call it a day? I'm dying for a large scoop of Bittersweet Chocolate from Three Twins Organic Ice Cream on Fillmore right now," Bryn declared.

"As good as that sounds, I do believe we haven't much left to pack. All that remains is part of your bedroom, correct?" Loki stated, preferring to finish the task at hand so they could better enjoy their new endeavors for the rest of the evening.

"Are you seriously being a killjoy right now?" Bryn said, a look of total disbelief plastered to her face.

He'd been called many names in his immeasurably long life-span, Loki thought to himself, but a 'killer of joy' was definitely a _new_ one.

"I'm merely suggesting that we finish what we started. That way, we have the rest of the day to do whatever we want," he replied with a small smile.

"Can't argue with that logic," Bryn conceded, hopping down from the SUV. "Anyway, by the time we finish this crap, I'm gonna be starving for dinner."

"I'm sure Alvi and Mars already have something in mind," Loki said, trailing behind her.

"Meaning that whatever they've got planned _doesn't_ involve having us around," she replied. "I think it's safer if we both went out for dinner tonight. It'll also give you a chance to get a general feel of the city."

Following Bryn back into her basement apartment, Loki returned to scrubbing out the remains of the bloodstain on her bedroom carpet while she finished packing up the rest of her things.

* * *

><p>Miles away, near Times Square in New York City, multibillionaire inventor and playboy Anthony Stark arrived at a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility that was disguised as a private security consultation firm.<p>

"I know he's in there and I want to talk to him," Stark demanded as he walked passed Agent Philip Coulson down a spotless, white corridor.

"That might not be a good idea right now. The man's rather...distraught," Agent Coulson replied, keeping in step with the intrusive Iron Man.

"What happened?" Stark asked, stopping in the middle of the corridor and crossing his arms.

"There was a minor...incident involving our new guest," Agent Coulson said.

"A 'minor incident?' Lemme guess, he pissed Fury off and you guys shot him to death," Stark said flatly.

"No. Capt. Steve Rogers is unharmed and in good health, but when he first woke up, he was suspicious of where he was and escaped. We managed to contain him in the middle of Times Square," Agent Coulson replied cooly.

"There's one helluva wake-up call," Stark muttered.

"Mr. Stark, may I suggest that you visit Capt. Rogers another time?"

"Don't play dumb. I _hate_ it when people play dumb and do _not_ attempt to give me a lame 'lack of clearance' excuse. My father's invention helped perfect the guy."

"Yes, your father's involvement in Operation: Rebirth is well documented," Agent Coulson began. "However, I can't allow you to simply walk - "

"Yada yada yada," Stark interrupted, pushing past Agent Coulson and continuing his way down the corridor. "Go ahead. Call whoever you need to tattle to. In the meantime, I'm here to talk to a living corpse."

Sighing audibly, Agent Coulson followed closely behind Stark until they found themselves in an area built like a 1940s movie set. A few paces ahead of them, a tall, athletically built young man with neatly cropped dark-blond hair was staring quietly out a large window.

"Captain Steve Rogers, I presume?" Stark said as he approached, his hand outstretched.

"I don't believe we've ever met," Rogers replied warily when he turned around, leaning casually by the window.

"You've met my father, Howard Stark. I'm his son, Tony."

Visibly taken aback, Rogers carefully examined the face in front of him. He shook Tony's hand when there was hint of recognition.

"Your father was good man. Very courageous and...maybe a little crazy," Rogers said with a nostalgic smile.

"Apple didn't fall far from the tree," Agent Coulson muttered.

"What was that?" Stark said, spinning to glare at Coulson when Rogers laughed. "Enhanced hearing, Cap, unfair advantage..." He turned to address Coulson. "...and _you_ play dirty. No wonder people hate you."

"I do whatever it takes to get the job done," Agent Coulson declared calmly.

"I'll bet," Stark retorted, narrowing his eyes. "In that case, don't you have someone else to harass or are you gonna play the annoying third-wheel all day?"

"Is there a problem here?" Natasha Romanoff a.k.a. The Black Widow asked sternly as she approached them. At Stark Industries, she was better known by her alias, Natalie Rushman.

"Can you get Coulson to go away, please, so I can talk to the Cap here?" Stark said.

"I'll take it from here," Romanoff instructed, effectively dismissing Coulson. "You stir up trouble wherever you go, don't you, Tony?"

"It's a knack," Stark shrugged. "Lemme guess, you're my lovely new chaperone." When Natalie made a face, he added, "What? Don't like 'outsiders' snooping around the exclusive tree-house?"

"Why are you here, Tony?" she asked impertinently.

"Respectfully, Agent Romanoff, I'm here to speak to _him_, not you," Stark said slowly. "Besides, what's all the fuss about? The Cap's not allowed any visitors from the big bad world of the twenty-first century?"

"Fine. I'm letting Fury deal with you when he gets back," Romanoff stated sourly and briskly walked away, shaking her head.

"Why did you come here?" Rogers asked curiously.

"Just a simple social call. I was wondering how S.H.I.E.L.D. was treating you over here," Stark said, looking around the 1940s decor. "I see they tried their best to make you comfortable." When Rogers was silent, he added, "So, uh, how've you been doing since you woke up?"

"Golly-gee, let's see...I rise from the dead seventy years into the future to find out that everyone I've ever known and...loved...are _gone_," Rogers answered bitterly, then added sarcastically, "I guess I'm coping like a champion?"

"Listen...I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through...but I _do_ know that these super-secret government facilities tend to do things cold and clinical," Stark stated. "I'm guessing you haven't been outside since your rather rude awakening?"

"No," Rogers admitted, turning to look at the bustling city through the large window's one-way glass.

"That's where I come in," Stark said happily. "You up for an excursion?"

Disguised under a complex hologram of Agent Coulson, Stark 'escorted' Captain Rogers away from the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility without incident. Also, he couldn't have Rogers roaming around the city dressed in khaki army fatigues.

"First, let's get you into something more casual," Stark said, glancing at his companion with a frown. "You look like an oversized boy-scout in that outfit."

Still leery of his surroundings, Rogers nevertheless followed Stark down the crowded Manhattan streets and into an exclusive Ralph Lauren showroom. After much persuasion, he agreed to leave wearing an $85 short-sleeved, dull lime, weathered polo shirt and a $185 pair of 'Durango wash' blue jeans; his head reeling from how much the clothes _cost_.

"I'm a billionaire, so don't worry about it," Stark grinned.

"It's outrageous. Everything in that store was _way_ too expensive," Rogers remarked with a frown.

"It's a designer label. You're paying for the brand name."

"It's jeans and a T-shirt!"

"You hungry?" Stark asked, deliberately changing the subject. "There's a pub over on - "

"Can we go somewhere more...peaceful?" Rogers suggested, feeling overwhelmed by the magnitude of futuristic New York City's activity and noise.

"I know just the place," Stark said with a diabolical smile.

* * *

><p>Bryn left the Zuni Cafe after dinner with a big, satisfied smile as she led her companion to a nearby clothing store. Apparently, her Science Experiment had never been to a restaurant before and teaching him how to use a menu to order food was a bit comical. She also noted how every woman in the restaurant, including the men, were staring at him.<p>

"We're just gonna do a quick stop before we get come ice cream. There's this dress I've been wanting to buy in here. Been saving up for it," she said excitedly, heading straight for a rack and pulling out a brightly printed halter-top. She held the dress against her and said, "What do you think?"

"I believe I'll have a better opinion if you try it on," Loki suggested.

"Oh, um," Bryn hesitated, her cheeks warming. "Sure, why not?"

Inside the change room, she tried very hard _not_ to entertain a fantasy of shopping with Adam posing as her boyfriend...until she was reminded of his pledge to her as a '_slave_,' which was a bucket of cold reality to her. It only reinforced the fact that what Adam _really_ needed was a professional psychiatrist and not an infatuated, med-student dropout desperately trying to play doctor.

When she parted the curtain, Adam stood right outside, eyeing her carefully as she twirled slowly in place.

"It's a very nice dress," Loki complimented brightly. "I like the length and the fit on you...however...I did a bit of browsing and found these." He held up two more dresses, both of which she'd seen but never even considered. "Would you mind trying them on for me? I think they'd look lovely on you."

"...uh..." Bryn said, fighting down a deeper blush. Adam was making it extremely difficult for her to forget the whole boyfriend fantasy as she gingerly accepted the two dresses he held out. Just behind him at the store's counter, several young women were giggling and staring at them. _Oh, great. We have an audience. It's the restaurant part two._

She returned to the change room and tried on a dress made with different shades of green fabric. The top half was loose-fitting with a wide neckline that could be worn entirely off-the-shoulder or allowing one side to drop down enticingly.

Stepping outside, she stood in front of the full-length mirror, Adam moving to stand behind her. As she examined her new dress, she had to admit, it looked pretty good. Green wasn't exactly a favorite on her personal color palette, but at this rate, it was slowly climbing the ranks.

The second dress was a deep bluish-green, which complimented the color of her eyes. It was a spaghetti-strap halter with a provocative dip to the bust-line and formfitting at the waist. The skirt was layered and fell to three inches above her knees. Despite the dress's style being a bit more risqué than she normally chose, she looked and felt like a runway model.

"It seems we found your dress."

Adam's silky statement sent shivery goose-bumps across her skin.

When she got to the counter, Bryn ignored the dress's price tag which literally destroyed her budget for the month.

"That'll be $125.50," the young blonde at the counter said proudly, openly flirting with Adam.

"Visa, please," Bryn said automatically, then paused. "Excuse me, I thought the dress was - "

"You're in luck. It's on clearance," the young blonde said brusquely, her eyes still fixated on Adam who stood beside her.

"Oh," Bryn said in surprise. _Seventy-fucking-five percent off? I can totally live with that_, she squealed to herself happily, handing over her Visa card and barely listening to the small talk that was centered on Adam as she punched in her access code.

"Enjoy your dress," the young blonde at the counter said with exaggerated sweetness, saccharinely waving Adam goodbye and batting her eyelashes.

Rolling her eyes when she turned her head, Bryn left the clothing shop floating giddily on cloud nine. Not only had she bought an awesome dress at a ridiculous discount, it was _Adam_ who helped her find it!

They walked back to the SUV and made the quick jaunt to her favorite ice cream shop. The brightly painted spring-green store front near the corner of Haight Street and Fillmore always made Bryn smile and absolutely ravenous for their unique homemade organic flavors.

"Lemme guess, you've never had ice cream before?" Bryn asked Adam when they walked inside. _Maybe he is an alien_, she laughed to herself.

"No, I haven't," Loki admitted, though the excitement was plain on his face. He was always eager to try something new.

"It's a popular dessert," Bryn explained. "It's cold, sweet and comes in a wide variety of flavors. I tend to go for chocolate. The darker the better."

Her eyes immediately found a tub of Bittersweet Chocolate as she peeked past the glass of the store's industrial freezer.

Loki studied the labels of each flavor for a long moment before pointing to a tub of Chocolate Peanut Butter.

"You sure? That's a brave choice for someone who's never had ice cream before," Bryn replied.

"Then I'm doubly intrigued," he said with a smile, watching Bryn order his selection as she ate a generous amount of Bittersweet Chocolate the second her cup was in her grasp. He then noted her expression of absolute bliss.

Once Loki had his cup of Chocolate Peanut Butter, his first cold spoonful gave him a similar reaction. The ingenious confection melted in his mouth instantly, the unexpected taste of salty and sweet complementing magnificently together on his tongue. He was unaware of the comical expression on his face.

"Good, huh?" Bryn laughed, Adam looking like he had a bug up his nose.

Nodding and smiling with the spoon in his mouth like a five-year-old boy, Loki ate scoop after scoop of the frozen confection.

"Keep that up and you're gonna get brain freeze," Bryn warned with a grin.

"What's that?" he managed to say between heaping mouthfuls.

"You'll see," she said as they strolled out of the ice cream shop.

When nothing happened after Loki had eaten his last spoonful of ice cream, Bryn shrugged and tossed their empty paper cups into the nearest recycling bin.

"I wonder if it's safe to go home," she spoke out loud, checking her cellphone status as they meandered back to the SUV.

"Are we in danger?" Loki asked, his brows crashing together.

"Huh?" she answered in confusion. "Danger? Us? No, no." She kept forgetting that Adam took things too literally. "It's just that Alvi and Mars had a fight, so there's a good chance they'll be making up...and I don't wanna interrupt them."

"I see," Loki replied. "Well, then, this would be the perfect time to show me more of the city. Shall we?"

"Okay," Bryn agreed, slipping her cellphone back into her purse. "How do you feel about walking?"

* * *

><p>"Nifty, huh?" Darcy said with a wide grin, cradling a plastic bowl of seasoned extra cheesy popcorn on her lap. "Having Jarvis around's like owning a one-stop, no-holds-barred entertainment system."<p>

"With an _unlimited_ selection of movies," Jane said in awe.

The pair sat in large, full-grain buckskin leather bean bags against the bed-frame in Jane's guest-room as the high-definition movie 'The Lover' scrolled through its closing credits on a section of the tall, glass windows that were a prominent feature of Stark's mansion.

"Jarv says that Tony's got a direct pipeline to all the major and indie film companies. They even send him unreleased movies for his personal opinion - which he basically leaves for Pepper to do," Darcy laughed.

"Wow," Jane replied, grabbing a handful of popcorn. She dazedly shoved the entire handful of fluffy kernels into her mouth till her cheeks ballooned like a chipmunk.

"Hey, if you wanna know the skinny on Tony, just ask Jarvis," Darcy elbowed, wagging her eyebrows mischievously. "Betcha he'll do a wicked little show-and-tell presentation if you ask him to."

"Really? He'll do that?" Jane said in amazement as a brief fantasy of Jarvis presenting Tony's entire life from childhood to present flitted through her mind.

"Jarvis, I'd like a collage of Tony Stark fresh from the shower in all his naked glory, please," Darcy whispered with a leer.

"Shut up! Jarvis might hear you," Jane said with a blush, looking around nervously.

"I saw that. You've _thought_ about it!" Darcy giggled. "There's hope for you yet!"

"So, _this_ is where you two've been hiding," Stark suddenly said.

Jane and Darcy yelped in surprised, the bowl of popcorn they shared between them spilling to the floor. Stark stood at the entrance to the room, casually leaning against the doorframe.

"Tony! You're back," Jane said dumbly, her cheek feeling flushed. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest as she stood up, totally self-conscious about her pale pink, spaghetti-strap tank top with matching pajamas, printed with many cute, flying pink elephants. It also didn't help that she was braless underneath her top.

"You look ravishing," Tony teased with a smile which turned into a wide grin when Jane's blush deepened. "I see you girls have been making good use of Jarvis."

"He's got an amazingly impressive selection of movies," Jane said lamely, trying desperately to salvage some dignity. She felt like a teenager caught staying up too late on a school night. "We, uh, weren't expecting you back so soon...not that, um, we wanted you to stay away or anything."

"Actually, I wasn't expecting to be back so soon either but an interesting opportunity presented itself and I couldn't stay in New York," Stark replied.

"What happened?" Jane asked, assuming the worst.

"Relax, Jane, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s got no idea what we're up to and it'll stay that way," Stark reassured her. "In the meantime, we've got an additional guest I'd like you both to meet. I'll, uh, wait downstairs and give you girls some time to freshen up."

"Meet who?" Darcy said curiously as she and Jane exchanged glances.

In the living room, Steve Rogers wandered around with widened eyes as he marveled at the mansion's smooth 'futuristic' design, approaching a curious piece of sculpture hanging on a wall. When he touched it, the geometric pieces turned red, activating the brief klaxon of a security alarm.

"Do refrain from touching that panel again," a male voice with a British accent said flatly.

Rogers spun around trying to pinpoint the source of the voice.

"Where are you?" he declared defensively.

"I see you've met Jarvis," Stark said with a grin as he stepped down from a curved stone stairwell that led to the mansion's second floor.

"More like heard," Rogers replied, still looking around warily.

"I'll introduce you to Jarvis formally when we head to the basement. In the meantime, I'd like you to meet my other guests once they've made themselves presentable."

"Tony, I appreciate what you're trying to do...making me feel more comfortable and everything...but I'm really not up for a wingding - " The words died in his throat when he caught sight of two young women that descended the staircase toward him. One in particular jolted him to the core. Her jawline was softer to suit her oval-shaped face, but the slant of her nose, the reddish tone of her lips, the hazel sheen of her hair and her mannerisms...it was _unmistakable_...

"...Peggy?" Rogers said softly out of reflex. To the rest of them, he looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Who? Me?" Darcy said, pointing a finger at herself. "Um..."

"I-I'm sorry," Rogers said, his skin paler than normal. "Excuse me...I...I just need to get some air." He then sprinted past them to get outside.

"What was _that_ all about?" Jane said after a few moments of stunned silence.

"Who was that? Why'd he call me 'Peggy?'" Darcy blurted out.

Stark sighed in dismay as he gazed worriedly past them, his eyes following Steve's escape route toward the mansion's front door.

"_That_...was Captain Steve Rogers," Stark replied, "also known as Captain America." He paused to allow the information to sink in.

"Damn. He looks amazing for a seventy-year-old popsicle," Darcy remarked casually, earning a smack on the arm from Jane and a chuckle from Stark. "So, who's Peggy?"

"He was referring to a Lieutenant Margaret 'Peggy' Carter," Stark explained, having read The Cap's dossier which he'd recently 'liberated' from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mainframe, pulling up a picture of the woman in question. He gave his phone to Jane who passed it to Darcy. "She was a military liaison assigned to 'Operation: Rebirth.' No doubt, her British superiors wanted to keep close tabs on what their former colony was up to."

"I'm getting the distinct impression that there are a _lot_ more people involved in this so-called 'top secret' military research project," Jane observed with a slight frown.

"Let's just say that certain European countries had a stake in the project," Stark said. "What isn't documented on anyone else's official records is that on the eve of Cap's successful transformation, a German shadow organization gone rogue known as Hydra infiltrated the demonstration and killed Erskine. Unfortunately, the core formula of the 'Super Soldier Serum' died with him. That's why Cap's so valuable. He's the only one of his kind."

"What's to prevent the other countries that were present during the demonstration from duplicating what they saw?" Jane asked.

"Germany's military division tried to re-create the experiment from stolen Intel, but without Erskine's core formula and the particulars of my father's capsule, it was a disaster," Stark supplied.

"...and you know all this...how?" Jane said with a slight smile.

"It's all in there," Stark grinned, pointing to his cellphone in Jane's hand. "Jarvis managed to hack into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mainframe with a little help from me...and my acquisition of Agent Coulson's security access card." He tossed the stolen card over to Foster who caught it with a delighted giggle.

"_Nice_ one," she commended, relishing her imagined version of Agent Coulson's mortified expression - especially when he discovers how much of an 'accessory' he was to Stark's infiltration. "...and I suppose this card was helpful with how you were able to smuggle Captain Rogers right out from under S.H.I.E.L.D's nose?"

"I love the way you think," Stark replied huskily, his eyes smoldering.

Jane swallowed hard as she fought back a blush. She then noted that someone was missing. "Where's Darcy?"

Outside by the tennis courts and the helipad, near the steep, rocky cliffs of Point Dume Bluff where Stark's mansion was cleverly structured, Steve Rogers sat alone as he stared at the darkening sky with melancholy eyes. He heard someone's approaching footsteps but his enhanced body didn't seem to have the energy to move a muscle. Tucking his head down into his arms, he closed his eyes and listened as the person slowly sat down on the grass beside him.

"Hey...um...Captain Rogers...I know you wanna be alone right now...but I just wanted to tell you something," she said softly, glancing out at the sunset colored horizon and at her silent companion. Instead of a heroically muscled 'Super Soldier,' the man who sat beside her looked small and vulnerable as a young boy, hunched into a ball as he tightly hugged his knees, his forehead resting on his arms. "I did a project back in my freshman year of high school about my family history...and I had a grandmother on my father's side named Margaret Carter."

Rogers stayed silent but his head had turned to the side toward her, a clear indication that he was listening.

"I only know what my dad told me about her. She was working as a project coordinator for an architectural firm in New York when my grandfather met her. Grandpa David claimed it was 'love at first sight',' at least for him. Truth is, my dad's parents almost never hooked up coz Granny Marge kept politely refusing Grandpa David's invitations for them to go on a date. She finally caved one night since he wouldn't give up on her. After a long courtship they finally got married and had two kids, my dad and my Aunt Mary."

She removed her laptop from the backpack she brought with her and placed it in her lap. Tapping and opening file folders, she felt Rogers carefully inching closer to her to get a better look at her screen.

"It was hard on Grandpa David when Granny got sick. He stayed by her bedside and took care of her. When she passed away...it's like he lost the will to live and it wasn't long before he passed away too." When she found the picture she was looking for, she asked, "is this...Peggy?" Turning her laptop toward him, she adjusted the screen's angle and Rogers's devastated expression spoke volumes.

Placing the computer on his lap, Rogers stared at the face of the woman he loved, touching the screen's digital image with tender affection.

Darcy watched in sad silence as Rogers carefully scanned the digitized photograph on her laptop closely. It was a candid family moment with her dad who was age three, her aunt who was age two and her Granny Marge who smiled reservedly at the camera. There was a subtlety sad look in her Granny's eyes that was always a mystery to her...a sad, longing look that was _mirrored_ in Steve Rogers's sparkling blue gaze. Sparkling...because tears had flooded his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"Yeah...that's Peggy," Rogers said softly with a sniff, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from staring at the picture on the screen. Swallowing back a lump in his throat, he briskly wiped away the excess tears in his eyes. "You look a lot like her."

"Um...my dad's got more pictures of her at home...if you wanted to take a look."

"Thanks...but I don't think it's necessary..." Rogers replied sadly. He was happy that Peggy had moved on and had a family, though he secretly wished that the man in the photograph she married had been _him_. It was ironic, however, that he sat beside her granddaughter, since the odds of such a thing happening were simply astronomical.

Was it all truly a divine accident that he was here or was it a sinister Hydra machination specifically created to torture him? Thinking about the possibility of the latter - ridiculous though it was - gave him a serious headache.

"No really, it's no trouble. My dad can tell you tons of stories about her," she insisted, hoping that bringing some form of closure to Rogers would make him feel better. The 70 years that flew by in a blip while he was in frozen hibernation had no bearing on how he felt. To the newly awakened Rogers, everything was still his all-to-recent _present _rather than what should have been his past. It was a seriously messed up situation and Darcy felt a deep sympathy for the handsome man who sat beside her.

"What would be the point?" Rogers said dejectedly. "I love a woman who no longer exists." His face hardened when he stood up, brushing away bits of grass and dirt that were stuck to his jeans. "I'm really grateful to you for what you've told me...and I'm sorry...we haven't been formally introduced. I'm Steve Rogers."

"Darcy. Darcy Lewis," she answered with a smile, having grasped Rogers's extended hand as he effortlessly helped her to her feet. She bent down briefly to stash her laptop back into its case, draping the bag's strap on her shoulder. "Ready to go in?"

"In a few minutes," Rogers replied. "I think I'd like to walk around a bit. It's nice out here."

"Okay," Darcy nodded, turning to leave. "See you inside," she added briefly before resuming her trek toward the mansion's main double-door entrance.

* * *

><p>The hall of Gladsheim in Asgard was ablaze with festivity as a large banquet was held in honor of Sigyn's Homecoming. Many of the Aesir were in attendance, eager to congratulate her on the success of her studies in Ljossalfheim and coaxing her to do small demonstrations of what she'd learned. She was widely known to be a very shy little girl but her time away had allowed her to blossom and she'd grown into a radiant, confident young woman. With her foster sister, Lady Freya at her side, Sigyn obliged polite requests to show off her magic, and for a while, allowed herself to be swept away as the center of attention for the evening.<p>

Despite all the commotion and bright merrymaking, Sigyn knew that there was something amiss. Although Frigga had told her personally of Loki's absence - called away on an urgent errand by the All-Father himself - there was a lingering feeling of dread that fluttered in the pit of her stomach since she'd arrived. She'd tried to disregard the feeling as silly apprehension brought on by her heavy disappointment that Loki wasn't present to welcome her home with open arms. Of the many who dwelt in Asgard, he was the one she missed the most.

Glancing at Loki's older brother, Thor - who had stood in the 'protective' circle of his friends at the opposite end of the hall for most of the evening - Sigyn was beginning to wonder if he was deliberately avoiding her. She had been hoping to ask Thor in secret about where in the Nine Worlds the All-Father had sent Loki, which would then determine if it was possible for her to meet him at a way-point on his homeward voyage.

When she and Freya disembarked from their ship, she had barely contained her excitement to catch a glimpse of Loki; the long span of time she'd been apart from his company, the sole occupant of her thoughts. Even then, Thor had suspiciously refused to meet her gaze.

As she took a drink of sweet wine from her elegantly engraved ivory mug, her eyes caught a brief look of concern and worry on Sif's face. The dark-haired warrior-woman then appeared to be arguing with Thor and Sigyn resisted the urge to stare back at them when the entire group quickly gazed at her in unison.

Setting down her ivory mug, she smiled happily at her foster-brother Frey, the Golden Fertility Lord of Vanaheim who hovered nearby and asked her to dance.

"You seem troubled, little sister, for such a joyous occasion," he whispered.

"Of everyone in Asgard, I had expected Loki to greet me at the shoreline," Sigyn whispered back sadly. "Loki's absence...I find it both strange and...frightening."

She caught a subtle tick of surprise on Frey's face before he bent his head, leaving a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Your questions will be answered...very soon," Frey said ominously, his gaze, a telltale beacon of sadness. He smiled gently, pressed another, longer, tender kiss to her forehead before he turned away with a sigh.

Dizzy and pale, Sigyn leaned heavily against the feasting table, the shadowy dread in the pit of her stomach lurching malevolently. Tears filled her eyes as she placed a hand firmly over the treasured pouch she kept hidden underneath her clothing and close to her heart.

"Sigyn!"

Someone had shouted her name but it seemed so distant and unimportant.

Strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist as her head lolled downwards, her limp body a dead weight.

* * *

><p>...<em>Loki<em>...

It was dark and cold with an overwhelming feeling of dread, emptiness and painful sorrow that was somehow..._familiar_.

..._Sigyn..._

"...up! Come on now..."

A woman's voice, but it wasn't Sigyn's.

Then whose was it?

He should know. He always knew. He could perfectly recall the faces of every voice he'd ever heard in the Nine Realms, especially of those who dwelt in Asgard. Yet the voice of this particular female was a puzzle to him.

Who was she?

Why was she calling him...'Adam?'

Groaning, Loki felt a sharp pain - not to mention an odd lump - on the back of his head and there was a throbbing ache that was quickly spreading along the rest of his body.

"Okay, people. Show's over. Can you give us some room here, please?'

Ah, now he knew why the female's voice had puzzled him. The female _wasn't_ a resident of the Nine Realms.

"What...happened?" Loki rasped as he guardedly fluttered his eyelids open to determine where he was. When his hazy vision cleared, he was surprised to see at least a dozen unfamiliar faces staring back at him.

"Hey, you," she said, much closer this time.

His eyes darted to the voice's origin, and bending over him was...

"Bryn," Loki said as he looked up at her inverted face which was clearly worried.

When he tried to sit up, she was instantly beside him to help, along with a young man whose wavy, sandy-blond hair fell over his eyes.

"I can take it from here, Dav, thanks," Bryn said gratefully.

"Hey, anytime. Glad I could help," the young man replied, flashing her a roguish smile. "Good thing I was there to kinda catch him or he would've cracked his skull open."

Loki sighed softly in dismay. What had his pathetic human body done this time? He winced when he rubbed at the lump behind his head.

"You collapsed," Bryn said plainly.

"Collapsed..." Loki repeated slowly in sheer disbelief.

"Dunno, Brynzie, between the two of us, I know you're more of the doctor here but I'm still going with a mild 'seizure,'" he countered.

"Davin," she cut in sharply.

"Wait, one at a time," Loki said softly. "Let's begin with you." He turned his head to address the young man who stood to his left. "You claim to have caught me when I...'collapsed.' What did you see?"

"Uh..." Davin hesitated, his eyes darting constantly toward Bryn.

"I'd like to hear him speak," Loki said flatly, ignoring the murmuring onlookers and Bryn's slight frown. "You were saying?"

"Well...I was walking behind the two of you before it happened. I thought I recognized Bryn here but I wasn't sure, so I hung back. You guys were having a good conversation and laughing, then Bryn turned her head and I knew for sure who she was," Davin explained. "Course, I wanted to go over and say 'Hi', so I started sprinting toward you guys...and then _you_ kinda...jerked backward...like someone yanked you by the neck from behind or something like that...and you started falling. Dunno how I did it, but I ran and caught you...well, mostly...before you hit the pavement. I think your head kinda bounced a bit, though, before I got my hands under it."

"How did we arrive...here?" Loki asked, glancing at the faces of the dozen or so curious strangers that still lingered around them.

"I hoisted you over my shoulder and the building's manager, Carlie here, offered us her couch," Davin said proudly. The aforementioned manager was a tattooed brunette in a studded cat-suit who waved briefly to them before returning to work behind her desk.

Loki nodded, appearing satisfied by the young man's explanation. The well-worn, black leather couch he sat on made noise whenever he moved and the room they were in was too dimly lit for a work area. The dozen or so spectators soon began to leave, most of them returning to their duties in the building.

"We haven't been formally introduced," Loki stated, glancing at the young man on his left, then at Bryn.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Adam Laoki, this is Davin Connor. He works at the same club with me as a bartender."

"I thought you were a dancer?" Loki said.

"Your workaholic girlfriend here's got _two_ jobs. Bartender _and _the club's hot feature dancer," Davin grinned, dodging a sharp smack from Bryn.

"I do what I gotta do to pay the bills," she said hurriedly, reaching out toward her Science Experiment who had a very surprised expression with raised eyebrows. "Come on. Let's get outta here. We've taken too much of this nice woman's time already."

"Hey, it's no trouble," Carlie beamed from behind her desk. "If you and your man ever need couple's counseling, I'll be more than happy to - "

"Okay, let's go," Bryn interrupted, blushing furiously and yanking Adam to his feet and out the door.

"Geez, girl, slow down," Davin laughed as he strolled behind them with a grin.

Rejoining the city nightlife, Loki glanced back at the overhead sign from the place they'd just left which read, 'Whips, Chains & Lace;' his eyes settling on provocatively clothed mannequins on display behind a large glass window.

"Hold on, Bryn, I think your boyfriend wants to go back there and shop for stuff," Davin chortled, wagging his eyebrows.

"Davin! Adam's not my boyfriend," Bryn hissed.

"I dunno...you guys seem awful chummy for just 'friends,'" Davin teased.

"Will you _stop_," Bryn warned, thankful for the evening shadows that hid most of her deeply flushed cheeks.

"I do believe Davin here is more than suitable to be your lover," Loki stated bluntly as strangled noises sputtered from both his companions.

"Whoa, brakes on max," Davin replied, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Bryn and I just work together, dude. Besides, she's got more of a thing for the older guys."

"I'm _so_ gonna kill you," she gritted out with a glare. Davin was a great guy but he had absolutely no tact when it came to his mouth...among other things.

"Oh hey, sorry man, I'm straight," Davin declared quickly when Adam gave him an appraising stare. "I guess you two _are_ friends."

"Pardon me?" Loki said in confusion.

"Hey, I'm cool, you can look all you want," Davin replied with a grin. "It just can't go anywhere beyond that."

_Oh God, please, don't let Adam be gay_, Bryn mentally whined, nibbling at her lip.

"You misunderstand, I was merely wondering why Bryn would reject you as a potential lover," Loki rephrased with a slight shrug. "You're young, your body is in excellent physical condition and your face is quite handsome."

"I like this guy," Davin grinned broadly as he straightened his posture. "See, Brynzie? The man knows quality when he sees it."

"Dream on, Dav," Bryn said, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, Adam, I have to work with him and his head's big enough as it is. Keep up the flattery and he'll just float away like a hot air balloon."

"Real funny. Anyway, I got some time before my shift. You guys wanna grab some beer?" Davin suggested.

"Perhaps, another time?" Loki replied, his fingers lightly rubbing over the lump on the back of his head. "Nevertheless, Davin, I do owe you a measure of gratitude for helping me earlier and the next time we meet, I'll gladly pay for your ale."

"I'm more of a draft or lager guy but I'll take you up on that. Ale's way too hardcore for me on this side of the pond," he answered.

"Great! It's a date then." It was Bryn's turn to tease.

"It's not a date if I'm straight," Davin laughed. "Catch you two later."

"He's a crazy flirt at work, even to the guys, but he pulls it off, sometimes _too_ well," Bryn explained, shaking her head. "Why'd you think we'd hook up? I mean, don't get me wrong, Dav's nicely cut and all that but..."

"...but?" Loki prodded, curious. "You prefer him to be...older?"

"If he was more _mature_, yeah, I probably would've gone for him," Bryn stated, clearing her throat. "My disastrous love-life aside...you just smacked your head on cement. Feeling dizzy besides a headache?"

"I'm not dizzy but I'm feeling rather tired," he replied. His human body was still healing and may take a few more days to reach its optimum condition, whatever it was.

"I'm ready to call it a day too. Lemme give Alvi a ring first," she said, reaching into her purse for her cellphone and choosing her guardians' number on speed dial. "Hey, Alvi, sorry if I'm interrupting anything. You and Mars all lovey-dovey again? Good. Yup, SUV's locked and loaded. Adam was a total lifesaver. Yeah, we're both done. I need a hot bath and some sleep. Ran into Dav too. Tell you about it when we get there. See you both in a bit. Bye." She briefly checked her text message inbox before tossing her phone back into her purse. "All clear. I'll help you put some ice on that bump when we get home."

When the pair found the SUV and hopped inside, Bryn noted that Adam was strangely silent.

"You sure you're okay? You may have a mild concussion," she said.

"Apart from an aching bump, I'm confident that my skull's intact," Loki replied dryly. "I appreciate your concern but there's truly no need for such worry."

"It's gonna be a hard habit to break after...well..." she faltered, dropping the rest of her sentence. _I'm starting to get mushy. Not a good sign_. She decided to place her full concentration on driving.

"Your friend, Davin Connor, kept assuming we were a couple," Loki said with amusement, trying to break the uncomfortable silence between them, which only resulted in his holding on for dear life to whatever he could reach when Bryn jerked the wheel and almost drove into oncoming traffic.

"Shit! Not exactly the best topic of discussion while I'm driving, okay?" Bryn said loudly in distress.

"I can see that," Loki replied cautiously and - surprisingly - held his tongue for the rest of their journey.

* * *

><p>Steve Rogers walked inside the mansion about half an hour after watching the sunset, just as Stark's favorite catering service arrived on time to serve dinner for four. He had a sad expression with a difficult time trying to hide it, which Stark took as a personal challenge, attempting to make him smile with good conversation. By the time dessert was served, Rogers felt comfortable enough to participate, telling them stories of the time period he was from. He noted that his friendly hosts graciously veered away from anything that might trigger painful memories, but lodged in the back of his mind like a thorn was Darcy's suggestion that he find some 'closure' by visiting her father...his beloved Peggy's eldest son with another man.<p>

"Okay, Rogers, it's time you met Jarvis," Stark said as he stood up from the dinner table.

"Jarvis is _so_ awesome," Darcy said excitedly as Jane giggled.

Curiosity piqued, Rogers followed the trio down to the basement, namely Stark's personal workshop. He marveled at the numerical access panel that magically appeared out of nowhere on the glass door entrance as Stark entered his security code.

"Welcome to my lair," Tony said proudly.

The trio allowed Rogers to gawk at the entire layout, observing him silently as he did a slow, clockwise circuit of the basement work area. He skimmed through the many scattered mechanical and electronic parts atop large worktables, wondered at the sheer size of the area itself, admired Stark's collection of futuristic sports cars and bikes - all of which he was itching to ride - and finally stopping at a grid of several flat panel screens with a central keyboard.

"Steve Rogers, meet my supercomputer, Jarvis," Stark announced.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Rogers," said a pleasantly British male voice.

"Wait-a-minute. Horsefeathers...did you just say...'supercomputer?" Rogers gaped, having recently become familiar with the term.

"Jarvis is the finest example of advanced artificial intelligence on the planet," Stark said.

"I'm flattered you think of me that way, Mr. Stark," Jarvis said with undisguised amusement.

"...and with a sense of humor," Rogers observed with a chuckle as Stark made a childish gesture in response. "Uh...I'm pleased to meet you too, Jarvis."

"I trust Mr. Stark, Darcy and Ms. Foster have been seeing to your comfort?" Jarvis said.

"Yes, they've been very attentive hosts," Rogers confirmed with delight. He was conversing with a supercomputer! It was pure science fiction made real!

"I have access to an unlimited amount of databases should you have any questions, Captain Rogers," Jarvis stated. "I can easily assist you in your adjustment to our present timeline."

"Uh...yeah...that's great," Rogers said awkwardly, his companions fidgeting.

"Sorry, Jarvis here needs more practice in the finer forms of _tact_," Stark replied, glaring at a random monitor on his workstation.

"No, it's okay, _really_. You people don't have to keep tiptoeing around me. I know it might be hard to believe, but I'm _not_ constantly teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown," Rogers explained. "I know it's gonna take a while for me to...completely adjust...but it'll happen. Also, Tony, if you don't mind, I'd like to use Jarvis here for a crash course in World History."

"Be my guest. Whatever I can do to help," Tony said with sincerity, then noticed the strange look Rogers gave him. "What?"

"For a minute there...you were just like your father," Rogers complimented. "Howard Stark was a good man, and he always managed to do the impossible even if everyone around him said that he couldn't."

Tony's face immediately went somber and he nodded wordlessly, patting The Cap's broad left shoulder with his right hand as he walked passed, heading straight for the basement's kitchenette, specifically the liquor cabinet.

Rogers watched as Stark poured himself a generous glass of strong whiskey, chugging the entire glass down.

"Was it something I said?" Rogers said cautiously.

"It's not you...Tony...he gets a bit upset whenever anyone mentions his late father," Jane replied softly, recalling how incredibly candid and open Stark was to her when she'd first arrived. They'd talked almost non-stop the entire night, found that they had a lot in common and even swapped stories about their pasts.

"I see. Guess he really misses his dad," Rogers added sadly.

"Actually, it's more complicated than that," Jane corrected. "I'm sure he'll open up to you about it at some point soon. I mean, it's only fair since he knows..." She inwardly cursed herself for being so careless.

"...knows...what?" Rogers said patiently, dramatically pausing his open-ended statement with a look that demanded an answer.

"He's gonna kill me," Jane muttered with a sigh. "He stole your S.H.I.E.L.D. file when he smuggled you out of New York...which pretty much had everything there is to know about you."

"I just _knew_ there was more to this whole thing than a lame 'social call,'" Rogers said irately, scrubbing his face in frustration.

"Listen, you look totally wiped out," Darcy reasoned slowly. "I bet you haven't gotten much sleep since they found you, huh?"

"...no..." Rogers confessed with a whisper. There was a long pause before he spoke again. "To be honest...I haven't physically slept since I woke up. I've tried, but I only end up laying awake at night and staring at the ceiling. There's a big part of me that keeps stubbornly thinking...that this is all some horrible nightmare that I'll finally wake up from. Except...when the sun comes up...I'm reminded that...it's _not_..." He ignored the excess moisture that gathered in his eyes.

"Come on," Darcy said softly with a sniff. "I'll take you up to your room, okay?"

Jane stood motionless and silent as she watched Darcy escort the fabled World War 2 war hero, Captain America, out of Stark's basement workshop and up the winding stone staircase that led to the mansion's living room; a man who was presently just a phantom of his Super-Soldier reputation. Glancing at Stark, she saw a haunted expression that was disturbingly similar and pursed her lips. Taking a deep breath, Jane closed the distance between them, taking away Tony's bottle of whiskey before he was tempted to empty it.

* * *

><p>In the hall of Sessrumnir in Asgard - one of two that belonged to the Vanaheim Fertility Goddess, Freya - its peaceful, beautifully landscaped surroundings were disrupted by the soft, mournful cries of a young woman, barely sixteen years of age. Her long, golden-blonde hair trailed lightly behind her as she ran past trees filled with multicolored spring blooms and straight into her personal guest bedchamber, slamming the door shut.<p>

The Welcome Feast for Sigyn's Homecoming in the hall of Gladsheim abruptly came to a halt when their guest of honor suddenly collapsed. When Sigyn awoke, Lady Frigga sat beside her, holding her hand. With a constant flow of tears, Frigga informed Sigyn of the tragic news of Loki's madness and the damage it had caused: the destruction of Heimdall's hall, Himinbjorg; the ruin of Bifrost; the near annihilation of Jotunheim; the death of King Laufey in Odin's bedchamber; Thor's banishment and the unfortunate appearance of the Destroyer on Earth, a mortal world in Midgard.

Overwhelmed, Sigyn fled Gladsheim and sought refuge in the hall of Sessrumnir, locking her chamber door from the inside and refusing visitation from anyone. Three days and nights passed, and still her door stayed shut.

Worried for her, Sigyn's adoptive family took turns trying to coax her to come outside. She was silent and whatever food or drink they left for her remained untouched.

"Ah, my grief-stricken fosterling," sighed Njord, Vanic King and Lord of ships and coastlines. Along with his twin children, Frey and Freya, he'd agreed to live as a political 'hostage' in Asgard in return for a lasting peace between the Golden Kingdom and Vanaheim.

A man of early middle age, he was lean, vigorous and bearded, with calloused hands from working with ship-ropes as well as a slightly windburned face; possessing a quiet, authoritative charisma to his leadership as father and King.

"Her grief for Loki runs deeper than friendship," Freya said knowingly as she, Frey and their father sat in counsel on cushioned seats by a warm hearth. Two panther-sized golden-furred cats named Beegold and Treegold were curled by her feet, purring happily.

"Then our Sigyn is...indeed in _love_ with Loki," Njord uttered, shaking his head.

"Since the moment they met, they've had a deep affection for one another," she replied. "As I recall, she and Loki were near inseparable before she left to pursue her studies in Ljossalfheim."

"Loki is quite...odd and unpredictable," Njord mused out loud. "At best, he's a strange and unexpected match for her."

"Who are we to disprove of their pairing? If there is great love between them, only good things can come from such a union," Freya conveyed, gazing knowingly at her brother. Frey's marriage to the Jotun giantess Gerda was still a matter of some controversy to the residents of Asgard. Also, as the foremost authority on matters of the heart in the Nine Realms, Lord Njord and Frey could hardly disagree.

"The most important question would then have to be, dear Sister...does Loki love Sigyn with the same passion?" Frey declared, crossing his arms.

The three of them simultaneously turned their heads in the direction of Sigyn's locked bedchamber.

"For now, I simply wish for her eat and drink," Njord replied. "Or speak to someone. Anyone. I won't stand idly by and let her wither away."

"Perhaps she will speak to someone who loved Loki best," Freya said softly. She whistled sweetly to a nearby red bird with elegant plumage and it obediently flew to perch on her shoulder. From the folds of her white robes, she brought out a crystal locket where a small letter was visible, safely folded inside it. With the locket's chain twisted tightly around the bird's leg, they watched as it flew swiftly from them to find the message's intended recipient.

"Will he answer your missive, Sister? He's changed much since his exile and even more so since Loki's death," Frey stated sadly.

"Thor loves Sigyn as we do and it has pained him greatly to keep his distance since her arrival," Freya explained. "He could not tell her of what happened to Loki. Unlike Lady Frigga, he lacked the strength to form the words."

The Vanir royal family were silent for a long moment.

"Then I hope she can speak to Thor," Njord said and stood to his feet. "Send word to Noatun (his hall in Asgard) the moment there is any change."

Inside her bedchamber, Sigyn listened to her foster-family's worried voices and their attempt to contact Thor. Pacing her chamber in agitation, she pressed the silken lavender pouch that dangled from her neck against her heart. Her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, her cheeks streaked with dried tears. If Thor couldn't face her before, then a formal request from the Vanic King could not be ignored.

Once Thor was there...should she tell him? Does she dare tell _anyone_ of what she suspects? Would they believe her? After what Lady Frigga had told her, Loki's madness caused such a terrible upheaval that all of Asgard was ablaze with gossip about it. For three days, she heard from many passersby outside her door, the spoken scorn directed solely at Loki and she wept.

Shaking her head, Sigyn knew in her heart that whatever Loki did had a _cause._ Something or someone had driven her dearest friend mad, causing rage and destruction in its wake. Alas, the only person who could tell her what _truly_ happened was absent and the only other person left was incredibly reluctant.

Moving to sit on her bed, Sigyn carefully removed the lavender pouch from around her neck and laid it reverently on a pillow in front of her. Her fingers gently traced the intricate beadwork of clear crystals and the delicate embroidery of a purple flower in pale lavender thread, the image similar to the fresh blossom that was inside it.

Loosening the silken pouch's ribbon drawstring, she removed the hardy, bright purple blossom that Loki had given to her when they first met. She cradled it lovingly in the palm of her right hand and she blinked back renewed tears that threatened to surge down her cheeks.

If Loki was _truly_ dead...then why had the blossom she held stayed as fresh and sweet-smelling as the day he'd given it? Perfectly preserved by his magic, the bright purple flower should have withered at the moment of his death. No sorcerer in the Nine Realms, no matter how great or powerful, had total dominion over the forces of life and death, unless Fate had given them that duty; such as Lady Hel of Helheim, Keeper of the Land of the Dead or the mystical forces at the command of Odin the All-Father. Surely, Loki's magic would have died with him.

Yet the delicate blossom she held in her hand was _flawless_...and served as an undeniable symbol that Loki was still alive! Lady Frigga had said that he'd fallen from Bifrost and into the maw of Ginnungagap, the Great Void at the center of the celestial maelstrom. Instead of death claiming him, Loki had managed to _survive _and was stranded on an unknown world, alone, hurt...lost.

Closing her eyes, Sigyn slowly inhaled the flower's familiar, comforting fragrance and thought only of Loki, of how he appeared when she'd last glimpsed him, which wasn't too long before her homecoming. Smiling impishly to herself, she'd secretly 'cheated' during days between her studies, conjuring Seeker spells that found him wherever he travelled. His handsome face had matured much compared to when they'd parted. They were both so young then, him an adolescent boy and her, a little girl-child. Maybe if she concentrated hard enough, conjured the proper spell...she could _find_ him!

A new determination filled her as Sigyn whispered loving words to the flower she held in her hand, returning it to the safety of her silken pouch and tucking it under her clothing. Clearing her throat, she stood to her feet and walked to her dresser, taking a moment to tidy her hair. Her face was still red from crying, but it was expected. Turning toward the heavy door of her bedchamber, Sigyn took a deep breath and slowly unlocked the thick, metal latch; the door creaking as she pushed it open.

* * *

><p>"That's quite a bump you've got there," Alvi remarked as he peered over Bryn's shoulder. Mars made a small groan of sympathy.<p>

"It feels as bad as it looks," Loki groused, wincing slightly when an ice packet was pressed to it. Bryn had insisted on attending to him the minute they'd arrived, shoving him into the elevator and leaving all her packed boxes in the SUV's cargo area.

"You think he may have a concussion?" Alvi asked.

"We was out for at least fifteen minutes and he hit the pavement pretty hard," Bryn said. "Just to be safe, Adam, you should stay awake for a while. Let me know if your headache gets worse or you start to feel nauseous."

"If you insist," Loki sighed, slouching slightly on the couch in the living room.

"Better yet, perhaps you should see a good friend of ours who works at the local Urgent Care clinic. Her name is Dr. Alicia Barnes," Alvi suggested. "It'll just be a quick physical to make sure you're all right."

"I appreciate everyone's concern...but there's truly no need to fuss over a simple bump to my head," Loki said, holding the ice packet securely to it. "Yes, I realize it's a rather large bump..."

"We're more worried about what caused it, Adam," Mars replied. "The _way_ you collapsed wasn't..."

"Guys, guys, chill," Bryn interjected. "When he's ready, we'll ask him again about having a formal checkup at the clinic. For now, let's just drop it."

"The young man we met, Davin Connor, who works with you at the club downstairs," Loki said, effectively changing the subject. "He mentioned that you were responsible for working _two_ tasks?"

"Um...yeah. I'm a dancer _and_ a bartender there," Bryn confirmed reluctantly.

"Our Brynnie here's a bit of a workaholic," Mars mildly scolded.

"I'm just fast-tracking my savings," Bryn replied defensively. "Coz you never know what might come up...and as awesome as this penthouse is, I'm still gonna end up buying my own place."

It was the second time that day Loki had heard the term 'workaholic.' It reminded him of the word 'alcoholic' which the humans used to describe one who was addicted to and abused hard liquor. Was it a not-so-subtle implication that Bryn was doing too much at her job and overworking herself?

"Incidentally, Brynnie, Mars and I have offered Adam here an administrative position at the club. He can start whenever he's ready."

"Oh...uh...that's...great," Bryn forced out, quickly glancing at her guardians who seemed to have braced themselves for an outburst - her first reaction. Instead, she held it in, deciding to deal with the whole issue of Adam at her workplace later, moving it down her list of priorities. The most pressing problem was arriving the day after tomorrow from his Brazilian vacation, her former landlord, Raoul Ramirez.

"Well, now, how shall we pass the time?" Mars chirped, seizing the moment in case Bryn changed her mind about chewing them out. "What about a movie?"

"We can watch a new one or something from our collection," Alvi said excitedly. "Who wants popcorn?" He stood up as Mars raised his arm. "Usual topping, love?"

"Actually, I'll be joining you in the kitchen," Mars said with a smile. "I'll help with the drinks."

"Extra white cheddar on mine, please," Bryn said, using the remote to bring their large LCD screen to life. "I'm gonna go change for a sec, okay, guys? I've been in these clothes all day."

As everyone dispersed out of the living room, they failed to notice the look of pure fascination on Loki's face as he stared transfixed at the moving images on their LCD screen. What he originally thought of as an oddly blank 'picture frame' turned out to be much more than he'd anticipated. Gathering two enormous pillows, he settled down on one side of the couch to watch in wonder and amazement as a young man jumped into a vehicle that miraculously flew into the air.

* * *

><p>"He has come," Lady Freya said with a bright smile. Squeezing her fosterling sister's hand supportively, she stood to greet the All-Father's eldest son. "Thor, welcome."<p>

"Lady Freya," Thor bent at the waist in respect and inclined his head at her companion. "Sigyn." He'd nearly refused their formal summons and did nothing to hide his discomfort.

"Please, sit with us," Lady Freya coaxed gently, encircling an arm around Thor's waist and leading him to a bench by a hearth covered in soft pillows.

Beegold and Treegold, Lady Freya's panther-sized cats, nuzzled Thor's legs as he sat down. He smiled slightly, reaching down to scratch behind each cat's head and listening to their purring grow louder. He dallied with them, scratching their bellies when they rolled over while Lady Freya and Sigyn sat patiently watching him.

"In truth, Thor, our formal summons were made on behalf of Sigyn," Freya stated.

Sighing, the Thunderer slowly turned his head to face the young woman beside him, her wide, violet-blue eyes piercing his heart with a grief for Loki that matched his own.

"Forgive me...I..." Thor whispered raggedly, his deep anguish over the loss of his younger brother laid bare. "...I miss him..."

Made vulnerable by the presence of both Lady Freya and Sigyn, Thor wept silently and unashamedly as he and Sigyn clung to one another. After a while, Lady Freya shared their tears, embraced them both and sang softly to them.

"Please...I need to know what happened that day," Sigyn implored softly. "Tell me and I promise you, I will never speak of this again."

"What do you wish to know?" Thor asked, feeling drained as he sank into the cushions on the bench. "I can only tell you what I saw."

"I wish to see it for myself," Sigyn said firmly, holding out her hands.

Sitting up, Thor glanced at Freya who was silent.

"Sigyn, if we do this...there will be no gentle way for me to show you," Thor warned. "You will feel, hear, see _everything_ that I have...tried to forget about that day. Do you truly wish to remember him thus?"

"I need to know the truth...in a way only _you_ can tell me," Sigyn replied simply.

"Very well," Thor conceded sadly and nodded to Freya who instructed him to kneel facing Sigyn on a large, red, richly embroidered cushion.

Thor held up his hands, palms facing outward and gently grasped Sigyn's, her graceful fingers locked with his. They moved closer together, like a couple ready to dance and closed their eyes in unison, placing their foreheads together and twisting their interlocked hands between them.

A mixture of half-spoken and half-sung words came from Lady Freya as Thor and Sigyn swayed in a trance, the pair looking like they'd stepped onto a boat that rode the bobbing waves of the sea on a bright, sunny day.

In this trance, Sigyn relived Loki's fateful day; saw the appearance of the Destroyer on Earth; of a humbled Thor and his self-sacrifice in his mortal form to spare the humans from Loki's wrath. Then the return to Asgard, Thor's immortality and power fully restored, facing his brother who unleashed the devastating power of the Bifrost's energies toward Jotunheim.

Serving as an anchor for the tranced pair to the present, Lady Freya shed her own tears as she and Sigyn shared Thor's memories of Loki's final moments.

"_You can't stop it. The Bifrost will build until it rips Jotunheim apart."_

_Inside the circular, golden dome that was their Gatekeeper's post at the edge of Bifrost, Loki stood across from him on the topmost step of the pedestal Gate Lock where Odin's spear, Gungnir, had sat briefly in place of Hofud, Heimdall's sword, the rightful Gate Key that opened the portal. An ominous, crystalline form in the image of Yggdrasil, the World Tree, had formed itself around the Gate Lock - as if in direct protest to what was happening - while tendrils of malevolent energy crackled and enveloped the entire area. The image was frightening, cold and wrong!_

_When he approached the Gate Lock with a single-minded determination to hammer the ice with Mjollnir, he was flung back violently, struck with a sharp sting from the All-Father's spear. Stunned and confused, he stared at Loki whose very presence was unlike anything he'd ever seen or felt in all the time he'd known him._

"_Why have you done this?" he asked in distress. He wanted to know what had driven his brother to such violence, anger...and hatred._

"_To prove to Father that I am a worthy son," Loki declared with conviction. "When he wakes, I will have saved his life, I will have destroyed that race of monsters and I will be true heir to the throne."_

"_You can't kill an entire race," he argued. It was the first thing on the tip of his tongue and the most pressing issue, though he desperately wanted to address Loki's other disturbing words._

"_Why not?" Loki sneered back. "...and what is this newfound love for the Frost Giants? You, who could have killed them all with your bare hands."_

"_I've changed," he quickly admitted. It was true. Most of the bloodlust he'd felt toward the Jotnar and their ilk stemmed from his monumental arrogance, the ignorant pride of an eager warrior-boy who sought (shallow) victory in battle hoping to achieve (false) glory that rivaled his father's footsteps. Being exiled from Asgard and forced to live as a mortal was a hard lesson in humility._

_Loki, who knew him best, was clearly unconvinced of the change in him._

"_So have I," Loki bit back, striking his cheek in direct challenge with the staff-end of Gungnir. "Now fight me," he added, emphasizing his words with a hard hit to the side of his head._

_As he lay on the ground, momentarily dazed by the impact, Thor was astounded by the change in Loki. They'd quarreled intensely on many occasions and had physically beaten each other severely when their combined anger was especially explosive...but neither of them attacked the other out of pure malice! It was then that he realized...an irrational contempt and rage emanated from Loki which had never been there before. A deep-seated bitterness that consumed his brother and was terrifying to behold._

"_I never wanted the throne!" Loki continued to rant. "I only ever wanted to be your equal!"_

"_I will not fight you, Brother!" he shouted back, but Loki was passed all reason._

"_I'm not your brother," Loki said evenly. "I never was."_

_Thor had no idea how much those words would hurt him...until Loki had spoken them. His chest felt incredibly tight, as if Loki's hands had reached into his chest, squeezing the love from his heart, threatening to leave it cold and hateful. He felt ill from the thought of it._

"_Loki, this is madness!" he cried, desperate to punch through the mental and emotional miasma that painfully misguided his brother's words and actions._

"_Is it madness? Is it? Is it?" Loki taunted with tears in his eyes. _

_What bitterness! How could such a profound change happen to Loki so quickly in his absence? However, the same could be said of himself._

"_Come on, what happened to you on Earth that turned you so...soft? Don't tell me it was that woman!"_

_Jane. _

_No. __Leave the mortal woman out of this!_

_He couldn't hide the concern that was as bright as daylight on his face._

"_Oh...it was," Loki concluded. "Well, maybe, when we're finished here, I'll pay her a visit myself!"_

_That did it. Despite whatever madness plagued Loki, he couldn't ignore the cruel intent that dripped from the forthright threat._

_With a war-cry of indignation, he lunged forward, using Mjollnir as both weapon and shield. When they clashed, he struck Loki with as much ferocity as he could muster. Yet the longer they fought, he sensed with a growing dismay that Loki's masterful precision of Gungnir's attacks were fueled undoubtedly by hate...the sheer relish in Loki's strikes and parries were meant, not just to injure, but to kill!_

_Throwing Loki away from him, he needed to end their quarrel and spare the Realm of Jotunheim from total annihilation. He focused, willing his next strike to move through Loki's and Gungnir's defenses, effectively knocking his brother away from the Gate Lock, giving him some time to find a way to stop the dangerous energies from growing too powerful._

_Wielding Mjollnir high above his head, he flew forward with all his might, deflecting the spear's bolt of strong magic as he and Loki punched through the wildly spinning golden dome that was Heimdall's hall, the pair landing hard on the Bifrost bridge._

_Dangling from the shimmering edge of Bifrost, Loki's fingers held on precariously, the lethal waters of the Thund Thvitr river roiling tempestuously beneath him._

"_Brother, please," Loki begged. There was fear and sincerity in his eyes and words._

_Sighing inwardly, he couldn't refuse Loki's urgent request and bent to help him up...but his hand grasped nothing but air when his brother's body blinked into nonexistence. Spinning around too late, he met the sharp blade of Gungnir as it was thrust into his side, his enchanted armor absorbing most of the impact. He fell onto his back, blinking back the haze in his vision, his brother's mocking laughter echoing tenfold in the wind from the many illusions of Loki that surrounded him._

"_Enough!" he shouted, raising Mjollnir as a conduit for his anger, the hammer emitting a tremendous flash of lightning that dissolved all of Loki's illusions. Disarmed of Gungnir, his brother was thrown to the ground with a yelp._

_He was running out of time! He felt the savage, unrestrained power of the Bifrost portal building, the golden dome spinning faster. Placing Mjollnir on Loki's chest to restrain him, he inched carefully toward the tip of Bifrost, but its wild, unrestrained energies pulled him forward and if he dared to venture closer, he may very well be ripped apart by the surging waves of crackling energy. Cursing to himself, he needed the help of Mjollnir but that meant allowing Loki the chance to get up, delaying him further._

"_Look at you," Loki scoffed. "The Mighty Thor..."_

_He turned briefly to look at his brother, then spun back to face the madly spinning dome. The portal's energies had reached a point where shutting it down using the Gate Lock was now impossible. Racking his mind, he sought for a way to stop it...permanently._

"_...with all your strength. What good does it do you now, huh?" Loki grunted against the weight of Mjollnir pressing down on his chest. "Do you hear me, Brother? There's nothing you can do!"_

_Ignoring Loki's taunts, he made his decision. Without looking back, he summoned Mjollnir to his hand, bringing the hammer down repeatedly upon the Bifrost bridge. It was an outrageous option, but an option nonetheless. In his mind, he spoke Jane's name in a parting mantra, for he may never see her again. As Bifrost broke and crumbled with every swing of his hammer, the splintering pieces that fell away mimicked the indescribable ache in his heart for his private loss._

_Jane, Jane...I know that I made you a promise...a promise that I now must break. _

"_What are you doing?" Loki remarked in total disbelief._

_Be silent, Loki! I do what must be done! This is all your fault!_

"_If you destroy the bridge, you'll never see her again!" Loki yelled in desperation._

_Undeterred, he swung his hammer down relentlessly, a section of the bridge on the verge of collapse. He felt Loki rise to his feet, the rapid patter of leather boots running toward him._

"_Forgive me, Jane," he said out loud and roared, his arm thrown back for his final swing, just as Loki's bellowing cry resounded closely behind him._

_The words 'I love you' were left unheard, drowned out by the colossal eruption of the severed Bifrost bridge. Heimdall's golden dome, a place that had served as his post for countless millennia, broke apart and drifted downward, lost to the Void._

_Greatly relieved that Jotunheim was spared from destruction, Thor scrambled for bearing as he and Loki were flung upward in the explosion. On their way down, he grabbed onto Odin's spear as it soared past, Loki managing to barely hold on to the end of its staff. _

_If they were to die that day, Thor could at least have some answers._

_Rather than falling further past Bifrost and over the edge of Asgard, Thor felt a hand wrap itself firmly around his ankle, stopping his and Loki's descent into the Void. Without turning his head, he knew that the hand belonged to Odin, their father._

_As the pair of them dangled dangerously at the severed edge of Bifrost, he saw that the bitter rage in Loki had melted into despair...and the one hand of Loki's that clung to Gungnir was slowly slipping._

_What was Odin waiting for? Why wasn't he pulling them up? Was he going to punish Loki by feeding him to the darkness of Ginnungagap?_

_When Loki looked up, Thor saw the brother that he knew and loved instead of the bitter stranger that he'd so recently fought against._

"_I could have done it, Father," Loki said imploringly, and Thor realized that the face he saw wasn't meant for him. "I could have done it. For you, for all of us."_

"_No, Loki," was Odin's sad reproach._

_Now is not the time for this! Pull us up, Father!_

_At Odin's reply, Loki's reaction was immediate...and disturbing. The brother that he knew and loved was gone yet again, replaced by the bitterness of a stranger._

_What was happening? Why was this happening?_

_Suddenly, he saw that Loki's hand had drifted measuredly to the end of the golden spear...and his heart nearly stopped when he realized that it was deliberate!_

"_Loki, no," he uttered instantly...watching in horror as Loki's fingers unclasped..._

"_NO!" he wailed loudly, his sorrow mixed with confusion as he beheld the final image of his brother's face...a face that he wished he could erase from his mind! It wasn't how he wanted to remember him. _

_Loki's face was blank with a calm resignation and devoid of all love!_

"...oh...merciful Norns...no..." Sigyn moaned out, breaking the trance.

Thor, Freya and Sigyn sank down together in a heap, mourning Loki's loss as if he had left them only moments ago. They shivered uncontrollably as if they'd been abandoned in middle of a raging snowstorm.

...and they felt so very cold...

Elsewhere in Asgard, in the silver tower of Valaskjalf which was annexed to the hall of Gladsheim, the aged Odin sat alone in silence, having secretly shared Thor's memories along with Sigyn and Lady Freya. A pair of enormous wolves sat at his feet, Geri and Freki, the guardians of his tower, both whined in sympathy and nuzzled his hands when he reached down to pet them. Above him, perched on either side of him on tall, golden pedestals were Huginn and Munnin, a pair of great ravens that served as his clever messengers throughout the Nine Realms. The ravens cawed softly, sharing their master's pain.

In the privacy of his tower sanctuary, Odin wept for the loss of Loki. He lamented the drastic measures he had taken to vainly defy the Web of Wyrd, shown to him by the Norns in their Divine Well on the day he'd presented Loki as a babe to them. He simply couldn't accept that Loki's Fate...

Disguising a Father's love as indifference, Odin had done everything in his power to insure the best possible future for his adopted Jotun son. He knew it was selfish and the cost was great, but the events he had set in motion could not be undone. Someday, when he and Loki met again, he could only hope that all would be forgiven.

* * *

><p>to be continued<p>

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><p><strong>Correspondence:<strong>

Anon:

'i can`t believe that you have so little reveiws! i love this story and loki and everone and again loki. this was a very long chapter! It was increadibly well written and i`m anxious to see the next chapter. i will keep reveiwing your chapters when they come out. you deserve it. this is very cool. i like the flasbacks alot. maybe even more than the story, because he is in more of character. i just hope you don`t make it loveydovey ''you are the only one in the nine realms for me'' sort of deal between loki and your OC.

looking forward to your next post'

...

Dear Anon:

Thank you very much for your note! I'm humbled by your praise. ^_^

Why so little reviews, you say? I can only speculate on that one. It's every author's pleasure to receive feedback but I'm guessing many readers are waiting for my story to further develop. Also, the Mature Rating restricts the number of readers to my story but since I'm definitely dealing with mature subject matter, I'd rather not get in trouble with the 'Powers That Be.' ;D

Loki's character is definitely my main inspiration for writing this thing. LOL.

Yes. The flashbacks are indeed my favorite because they shed more light on Loki's past and his life as an immortal on Asgard. (more fun to write) The flashbacks are important because it explains why he behaves the way he does. Also, it's interesting to speculate on his interactions with his family and friends. :D

As for Loki and Bryn...their relationship will develop gradually over time, making it more plausible for Loki as a former immortal to acquire affection for a mortal human. (a race that he'd previously loathed for centuries) I doubt Loki will be prone to spouting any corny love lines either. xD

Your input is most welcome! I look forward to your feedback!

Take care!

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

My very own 'slave' Loki? Yes, _please!_ *laughs at Bryn's resistance* (The girl's crazy!)

Bryn's road rage = priceless.

Sigyn's immortal age approximation is '16.'

Loki caught the last few minutes of the movie 'Back to the Future' on television.

For anyone wondering about Loki's 'uncharacteristic kindness', please keep in mind that he's not a hardcore bad guy. The evidence is clear on how he's depicted in canon Norse mythology, despite how he's portrayed in the Marvel universe, which includes the movie. Loki's best defined as someone who enjoys walking the gray line between good and nasty, depending on his mood. It's truer to his nature of 'I do what I want,' which I'm guessing is pretty much the philosophy that governs the immortal beings that reside in the universe of Yggdrasil. ;D


	7. Period of Adjustment

*Avengers Fan-fiction by Kemurikat*

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><p><strong>Such Fragile Creatures: Act 07 - Period of Adjustment<strong>

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><p>Even Alvi and Mars, of all people, thought that her choice of the movie 'The Sound of Music' was a bit surprising. Though Bryn had an underlying agenda planned for her choice of the musical, it was one of her dearest favorites. Star Wars, Singin' in the Rain, Tron, The Shawshank Redemption, Grave of the Fireflies, Lawrence of Arabia, Titanic, The King and I, Leon: the Professional, My Fair Lady, Terminator 2 and The Wizard of Oz, were among the titles that she enjoyed watching with her late parents as a child.<p>

Rather than hum along to Julie Andrews as she often did whenever she watched 'The Sound of Music', Bryn sat through the entire film carefully gauging Adam's reactions to each scene, something that hadn't escaped her guardians' shrewd observations. With childlike delight, Adam's eyes were practically glued to the screen, which suggested that he hadn't seen the film before...or the ridiculous notion that it was the _first_ movie he'd seen..._ever_...and considering the compiled 'evidence' she'd gathered so far, parts of Adam's crazy story about himself seemed true. His often naive line of questioning about modern life and technology expressed his total _lack_ of experience living in an environment outside of a commune straight out of the Dark Ages!

Ever closer to physically ripping her hair out in frustration, Bryn could no longer deny that her growing fondness for Adam had gone _beyond_ a simple desire to help him. She...wanted more. She wanted..._him_.

However, wanting Adam came with some major obstacles. The first, most important of them was the shaky state of his emotional and mental health, and second, was the credibility of his claims about his identity. They were major flaws, _big_, in-your-face red flags that any rational girl would avoid at all costs. The problem was, rationality had fled Bryn the day her parents died. To her, Adam was attainable with a fair amount of plotting and planning, all bizarre stuff aside.

There was a bit of a bright side. From her perspective, Adam's second major flaw, of him adjusting to a life outside of a Medieval commune was, at least, correctable. All her Science Experiment needed was a trip to the library or his own laptop and he'd have most of his questions answered through Google...and then some.

At the moment, Bryn's current focus on Adam was childish since her growing infatuation was clouding her judgement. Why wouldn't it? Beside her sat a sexy, handsome, mystery man who'd willing pledged himself to her as a _slave,_ body and mind_._ She was literally living out a story from some popular romance fantasy novel!

Well, heavy on the fantasy and zero in the romance department, as of yet, if she wanted to be exact. Also, if she wanted to be _completely_ honest with herself...there wasn't anything she wouldn't willingly surrender in exchange for a golden ticket to jump Adam's bones. She could even diabolically test his whole 'slave' schtick and _order_ him to...Oh, God.

Bryn secretly whimpered in dismay. Her personal pent-up sexual tension was making her lose her mind!

As Adam animatedly gushed out his absolute delight watching 'The Sound of Music,' she felt a squeeze on her left forearm.

"Can we talk in the kitchen for a minute?" Mars asked softly.

_Here we go_, Bryn thought to herself. She knew that Mars was about to give her 'the talk.'

"I should give you an Oscar for Endurance," Mars remarked slyly, dodging a smack from Bryn. "You should just _ask_ him for sex. I don't think he'll mind."

"Mars, I'm going through hell here!" she hissed, plopping down on one of their heavy bar stools. She leaned over their stone counter with her arms stretched out, her chin resting on the smooth, hard surface. "I'm seriously being punished for whatever bad thing I did in a past life."

"Brynnie, you should stop being so negative," Mars chided with a smile.

"Coz being _oh_-so positive's really gonna help," she said sarcastically and sighed heavily. "We don't really know anything _about_ Adam. Where he's from, what his parents were like, if he's married, divorced, straight, gay, bi, a fugitive from the FBI's most wanted list, mentally psychotic, a government science experiment...a fucking alien?"

"Yes, we've all noticed that there are many strange things about Adam that don't add up," Mars agreed. "...but you can't deny that the man's also intelligent, kind..."

"Like a prince out of some fairy tale, yeah, I get it," she huffed. "Remember the last 'nice guy' I went out with?"

"How could we forget?" Mars replied flatly, his mouth in a tight line.

"Shit...I'm sorry," Bryn said softly, cursing her stupid mouth. She knew that any form of mental or physical abuse was a delicate subject with Mars.

"That's all right. It's your hormones talking," he replied, lightening the mood.

"The odds are kinda stacked against me here," she argued. "If Adam suddenly remembers that he has a family somewhere, what'll you think he'll do? What's worse, if he's mentally unstable...I don't think I can - "

"Brynnie, please," Mars stopped her, unwilling to listen any further to her morbid ranting. "We take it one day at a time. That is...if you can last that long."

"Major odds," she muttered, just as Mars's better half and her Science Experiment entered the kitchen. _You want him to be gay, Mars, that way, you and Alvi could share him_, she mentally accused with a pout.

"This a private confab or are we allowed to butt in?" Alvi announced cheerfully. He glanced at Adam's melted ice pack. "Here, let's get another one for you."

"Enjoyed the movie, I take it?" Mars asked with a wide smile.

"Yes, very much so," Adam said enthusiastically.

"Which part was your favorite?" Mars continued and bit his tongue to keep from laughing at Bryn's disgruntled face.

"Wasn't the movie to your liking, Bryn?" Adam said in response to her expression.

"Of course, she liked it. 'The Sound of Music' is one of her all-time favorites. Isn't that right, dearie?" Mars submitted.

"Yeah...I used to watch it tons of times with my mom when I was growing up," she answered with a slight smile. Her guardians shared a sad glance.

"Oh...I hadn't realized that the movie came with such precious memories," Adam said empathetically. "Forgive my insensitivity."

"No, hey, it's okay," Bryn said quickly, glancing at Mars and Alvi who silently went 'aww' to his gracious reply. Dammit! Why'd Adam have to play his super-sweet gentleman card? It made her feel like a total witch. "I'm just tired. We had a long day."

Not one of her best excuses but there was some truth to it. The clock on the wall told her it was well past midnight.

"That reminds me, you and I have a fitting with Gratian tomorrow at nine," Mars said, noting an alert from his phone's day-planner.

"Crap, I completely forgot about my costumes," Bryn mumbled, slumping onto the stone counter.

"Costumes?" Adam asked, curious. He accepted a new ice pack from Alvis and promptly placed it on the slowly receding lump at the back of his head.

"They're for my latest dance routine," Bryn replied, her words muffled by deliberately jamming her face in her arms which were crossed on the kitchen counter. _Kill me now_. "Well, I'm off to bed then. I'm totally not in the mood for one of Gracie's lectures if we're late."

"In that case, love, I'll be taking Adam with me to finalize the documentation for his I.D. tomorrow," Werner stated carefully. Mars heaved an exaggerated sigh.

"Then Brynnie and I will meet you both for dinner at Andre's Bouchee in Carmel by seven?" Mars said pointedly, his thumb already clicking away to make a reservation by text. He and Alvis were long time friends of the restaurant's proprietors, having met them by chance while viewing 'The Winged Victory of Samothrace' at the Musée du Louvre on their third wedding anniversary trip to Paris, France.

"Way ahead of you, love," Alvi replied smugly. "Once Adam and I have finished our sordid side-trip, we'll be taking the 101 down and straight to The Royal Armoire by three, giving the four of us plenty of time to browse and do a little shopping before dinner." He stared at his spouse's defiant gaze for a long, wordless moment, the silence in the kitchen broken by a chime from Mars's phone.

Shaking her head, Bryn knew what their exchange meant and saw Adam's confusion when his glance bounced between her guardians' serious faces. Alvi and Mars rarely fought, but when they did, their strong, passionate personalities clashed with legendary intensity. According to senior staff at the Bourgeoisie, the couple's last epic argument was the main reason the penthouse had gone through such a drastic, architectural renovation the night she'd met them.

She knew enough from her almost two year association with her current guardians that Alvi's secret 'James Bond' side-trips were a significantly sore subject for his frustrated spouse. Short of Mars hiring a private investigator, Alvis had cleverly covered any evidence of his mysterious business dealings outside of the club. Over time, Werner resorted to blatant bribery which Mars learned to initiate, the pair constantly trying to outdo each other in their special game of cat and mouse. A game that usually involved obscene amounts of money.

It was moments like this that made Bryn wonder who her guardians really were.

_Yeah, like I'm one to talk_, she mentally scolded herself. _Here I am...poor little orphan Annie who somehow found the courage to stick it to the System and running to the opposite end of the country to...what? Find myself? Jump-start my entire life over just to get back a sliver of what I used to have?_

Unaware that she'd drifted off into space, Bryn continued her philosophical tirade until a gentle grip to her shoulder yanked her back down.

"You went still as a statue," Adam spoke softly, his hand staying on her shoulder. Even Mars and Alvi were beside her, their argument temporarily forgotten.

"Sorry," she replied. "Bad habit. The whole staring-off-into-space thing. These days...I seem be to doing it more often." She nibbled at her lip and shrugged.

"It's late, we should all be off to bed if we have any hope of getting up tomorrow," Mars said with a yawn. "Sweet Dreams."

Bryn watched quietly till her guardians shuffled off to their master bedroom, listening to the soft click of their room's double-doors. Turning to Adam, she gestured for him to turn around so she could examine the back of his head.

"Since your bump's mostly gone, you're good to go," she said, putting his half-thawed ice pack on the kitchen's stone island counter. "So, um, you gonna be okay?

"I'll be fine," Adam reassured her.

"Okay then. Well, thanks for all your help packing my stuff."

"I'm gladly at your disposal," he answered modestly.

_Geez_. "Uh, sure. Now that your bump's all better, go ahead and get some rest," she said, nibbling at her lip. What she _wanted_ to do was stay up the rest of the night with him. Maybe watch another movie...but she had her stupid fitting. "Good night."

"Good night, Bryn," Adam replied with a slight nod and sat at the island counter. His eyes followed her until she entered her bedroom and softly closed the door.

Alone in the penthouse kitchen, Loki sighed softly to himself as his thoughts switched to Sigyn. The strong emotional and mental connection that had always existed between them had transformed, flowing in one direction toward him, making him the sole receptor. At least, he fervently hoped it did. Though he truly wished to return home, he could not enter the Realm of Asgard trapped in a mortal body, and above all, he zealously refused to use Sigyn as a beacon in the dark. The very notion made him physically ill.

_Forgive me, Petal. I know that you miss me and I miss you dearly in return. Please understand...I cannot return to you...so long as I am this. Perhaps one day, we may meet again..._Loki paused his mental conversation to its oblivious recipient and closed his eyes. _When we meet again...what then? I've done terrible things, dearest one. I will not be welcomed kindly with open arms at Valgrind's gate_.

Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, Loki wasn't the least bit tired and very apprehensive of falling asleep, his dreams often plagued with nightmares. For him, it seemed that he was sentenced to face the remainder of his mortal life with days full of worry, the stillness of every evening offering him no rest, no peace.

* * *

><p>Darcy Lewis yawned and stretched on her way down the winding stone staircase to Stark's basement workshop, eager to spend more quality time with her favorite supercomputer, Jarvis. As expected, the basement door was open to allow her inside and she giggled to herself. What she wouldn't give to read the numerous replies that were guaranteed to appear on online forums if she anonymously posted that she had an all-access pass to Iron Man's secret lair! Not that she ever would...but she could still fantasize about it.<p>

"Morning, Jarv," she said with a smile, dumping a bag of food on the stone counter of the basement's corner kitchenette. It's not like she needed to go shopping for anything. Her entire bag of goodies came courtesy of Stark's well-stocked pantries from upstairs.

"Good Morning, Darcy."

The greeting was in a voice she _hadn't_ expected and she squeaked in fright.

"Geez-Luisa! Give a girl a stroke, why don't ya?" she scolded the voice then glared at one of the workstation monitors. "Thanks for the warning, _pal_."

"Forgive, me, Darcy. Captain Rogers assured me that you wouldn't mind being surprised," Jarvis replied calmly.

"Oh, really?" she said, narrowing her eyes. "How'd the two of you get to be best buds so fast?"

"Since I stayed awake all night reading up on everything I missed," Rogers replied sheepishly with a shrug. "Couldn't sleep."

"Or more like...didn't want to," Darcy corrected. She stepped closer to Jarvis's computer workstation, leaned against one of the heavy steel tables and crossed her arms. "I know that you're kind of superhuman, so you could probably stretch out the whole sleep-deprivation thing...but you can't do it indefinitely. You look like hell."

"I know," Rogers sighed, sinking heavily into Stark's leather, high-back chair. "You're right...I can't go without sleep indefinitely."

"...but I can sure as hell try..." they both muttered.

There was an awkward pause as Rogers and Darcy stared at each other, the pair eventually laughing out loud to relieve the tension.

"Okay, that was freaky," Darcy replied after she'd calmed down.

"Same here...freaky..." Rogers said, testing out the new word.

"Doesn't suit you," Darcy quipped with a quick shake of her head and Rogers chuckled in agreement.

"Copy that. I should scram, cool my blinkers and pile some Z's. My skull's ready to blow with the amount of information I've got cramped in there," Rogers said, rubbing his eyes. He caught Darcy staring at him. "What?"

"Your being from the forties was showing for a minute there," she grinned.

"Oh..." Rogers replied, remembering what he'd told her. "Like I said, it'll take some time." He stood up slowly and a bit unsteadily from the high-back leather chair.

"Whoa, there. You need a hand upstairs?" Darcy asked.

"I'll be fine...but thanks for the offer."

"I will always be available whenever you have need of me, Captain Rogers," the supercomputer stated.

"Thank you, Jarvis," Rogers replied. "You've been a big help."

"Exactly how much stuff did you read up on?" Darcy asked, curious.

"I, uh, somehow managed to cram in most of the late forties to the present. Just need to take a breather and let it settle."

"Holy shit," she blurted out, then covered her mouth. "I mean...wow."

"It's okay," Rogers chuckled. "Peggy...I mean, your Granny Marge, she swore like a sailor."

He turned with a big yawn, dressed in the same clothes he had on at dinner and slowly walked toward the basement's glass entranceway. Just before he cleared the threshold, he looked back, smiled warmly at Darcy then trudged up the stone steps to the mansion's upper floors.

Darcy plopped herself down on the computer workstation's high-back leather chair, a bag of cheesy chips on her lap.

"You're not seriously going to eat that for breakfast, are you?" Jarvis observed, appalled.

"Bite me," Darcy retorted in a snippy tone. It was childish but a selfish part of her was hugely annoyed with having to _share_ Jarvis with Rogers. "Besides, they're amazing and if you had taste buds, you'd agree with me too."

"Perhaps," was Jarvis's amused answer. "I could also share with you the entire process of that brand you're eating..."

"No, thanks," Darcy said adamantly. "Maybe someday when I start to abuse my craving for them. For now, I'm perfectly fine with it."

"The more I learn about you humans, the more you puzzle me," Jarvis stated.

"Yep. Humans will always be walking contradictions, Jarv," she answered with a smile, then lowered her voice to a near whisper. "Gonna let you in on a little secret...just as humans are a confusing puzzle to you, we humans are still a mystery to each other."

"Then I suppose...the phrase, 'It takes one to know one,' might be the only solution?" Jarvis replied.

"Hey, you're getting good at that," Darcy commended, marveling at how her favorite supercomputer sounded increasingly more like talking to a person.

"Thank you, Darcy," Jarvis said politely. "What shall we talk about today?"

"Let's see...how about..." Darcy mused, munching on a few snacks while she thought of their next topic of conversation. She and Jarvis had been having enormously long discussions about what it meant to be 'human.' Since Stark was always too busy to satisfy Jarvis's own curiosity, she figured she'd step in as a sort of mentor and friend. "Tony mentioned that his dad _made_ your voice totally unique, is that true?"

"Correct. Mister Howard Stark spent months creating each individual wavelength of the entire algorithm that comprises my voice. He was very meticulous."

"Holy crap...talk about a severe case of OCD," she muttered. "Must come with the territory when you're a genius."

"Pardon, me, Darcy?" Jarvis said, sounding confused.

"Wait, I got it! Our next topic," Darcy said excitedly. "Hey, Jarv, have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a face?"

* * *

><p>Alvis Werner woke to the first rays of sunshine, a habit he hadn't quite 'outgrown' from his days in the military. Part of him enjoyed the regimented discipline of being a soldier, until the day the psychological damage of his occupation caught up to him. Killing was still <em>murder,<em> no matter the circumstances or the personal justification behind it. Eventually, it took its toll.

Squirming carefully out of bed, Alvis donned a skintight, Speedo LZR Racer Elite Jammer with matching goggles, draped a towel over his arm and walked out the door he'd incorporated into their en suite bathroom to their new rooftop pool. He used to travel to one of the neighboring buildings for a swim, a form of exercise he enjoyed doing to get his day started. Now that he had one built for himself, the luxury of convenience was a delightful relief.

His first dive was similar to the bliss of that first drink of cold beer: invigorating, refreshing and relaxing all at once; a feeling he anticipated with relish every morning. As he glided through the warm, salty liquid with every stroke, it also amazed him that the very nature of water was a contradiction. It gave life to the many creatures that inhabited its depths, yet it destroyed mercilessly with the power of a wave or flood. In his day-to-day living, water provided a measure of calmness and solitude while he swam, as well as an excellent type of exercise that maintained his muscle strength and cardiovascular health.

After about thirty laps, Alvis took a brief break to readjust his goggles and nose clip, when he felt someone's presence watching him. Looking around, he was surprised to find Adam - a pair of pajama bottoms his sole article of clothing - seated on a lounge chair that he'd pulled up close to the edge of the pool beside his.

"You're up early," Alvis called out as he swam closer.

"I couldn't sleep," Adam answered, leaning forward on his lounger, his elbows perched on his knees. "I heard movement and followed you here. You were very preoccupied by your swimming." _Why must he do that tedious motion of going back and forth so many times?_ Loki thought.

"Would you like to join me for a few laps?" Alvi asked. "Unless, of course, your injuries are still bothering you."

"I'd like that but I'm not appropriately dressed for a swim," Adam replied, gesturing to his pajamas.

"Underwear will do fine in here," Alvis chuckled.

"I'm not wearing any," Adam said simply, stifling a smile when Alvis mildly blushed and cleared his throat. "Perhaps, I could borrow something similar to yours?"

"I...may have a spare that would fit you," Alvis said when he waded up from the pool at the four-foot shallow end. He designed it so that guests had a choice of either a ladder or a set of stairs to leave the water. "You're a bit taller than I am. Wait here."

The smooth steps of their infinity pool were only half the span, giving Werner no obstruction for his exercise laps on one side. A white pool rope with brightly colored line floats served as a guide while he swam, easily attachable and detachable with locking rope hooks to built-in rings located safely inside recesses at both ends of the pool wall.

The deepest part of the pool was set at fifteen feet, accommodating their almost ten-foot tall diving platform. For safety, Werner had military-grade sensors incorporated into the top of the platform's structure that constantly measured wind speed, the results simplified for guests by a small monitor at its base that brightly indicated the color green or red. There was also a lower level at about five feet for the less adventurous.

Thick sheets of clear, durable glass enclosed the outer edges of the pool, giving it the illusion of infinity as well as a stunning view of the city while guests were underwater. The warm, salty water was maintained by an industrial grade filtration system that kept the pool clean and at peak temperature all year round. From the street, their penthouse pool was seen as a rich, blue-green block, clearly visible on a corner of the eight story building.

Dashing to the master en suite, Alvi quickly rummaged through their bathroom linen closet and found an unworn pair of swim briefs in a pile reserved for visiting guests. Grinning to himself, he returned with the item in his hand, along with a pair of extra goggles and a nose clip.

"This...has considerably less material than what you're wearing," Adam noted as he held up the little garment.

"Yes, it does, but it's the only one I have that will fit you," Alvi said. "Tomorrow, when we head off to Carmel, we'll do a bit of shopping."

"I'm grateful for the offer, Alvis, but I don't yet have the...money to pay for the - "

"Oh, it's no bother at all, Mars and I insist...but if you like, we could lend you the money. You can then pay us at your own pace when you start working," Alvis suggested.

"That sounds reasonable. I accept those terms," their handsome guest replied with a nod.

Without warning, Adam's pajama bottoms dropped to the ground, forcing Werner to quickly look away with a grunt as he re-donned his goggles and dove into the pool. When he surfaced for air, Adam was dressed - the Speedo Powersprint Placement 14 cm Brief fitting his pale, slim, muscled body _nicely_ - and he was climbing the diving platform to the very top!

"Adam! I don't think that's a good idea. Your _injuries_," Alvi yelled.

"I've plunged from much greater heights than this before," Adam said confidently. "As for my injuries, they're quite healed." He demonstrated by rotating both his right shoulder and wiggling the fingers of his left hand.

"Oh, Good God, _please_ don't let him hurt himself," Alvis muttered worriedly as he stared up at him. After a while, he saw that Adam's diving posture was straight and true, his expression fearless. His eyes trailed their handsome guest down into the water when he jumped, Adam's sleek body barely making a splash. "Well, I'll be..."

_That was...different_, Loki thought when he surfaced for air. There was decidedly more sensation involved in diving and swimming in a mortal human body. He would have to spend some time gauging his new body's strength and endurance. _Shall I begin with holding my breath?_

"I usually swim sixty laps. I'll do thirty more, then we need to get ready to leave for our appointment," Alvi stated, glancing at his waterproof watch. "Adam?"

Looking down, he saw that their handsome guest had submerged himself at the deepest end of the pool, hovering underwater as he stared at the city through the pool's thick, glass outer walls.

In his muffled cocoon of liquid, Loki gazed at the rising sun as it flooded the sky, the bright, colorful dawn backdrop spreading dramatically behind the city's metal and concrete structures, each building aglow, outlined by haloes of light. Soon, he would have to join the mediocre day-to-day actions of living as a human on Earth, something that gave him little enthusiasm, but it was absolutely necessary for his survival. The faster he 'integrated' himself into their world, the faster he could find a way to _leave_ it!

* * *

><p>"Don't you think it's a bit strange that S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't beating down your door to get their Captain America back?" Jane Foster pondered out loud.<p>

"Well, for starters, Captain Rogers isn't anyone's property, _especially_ S.H.I.E.L.D.'s. Second, yes, it is odd that I haven't heard so much as a peep from them, but frankly, I really don't give a shit," Tony Stark stated with a smile, making Jane giggle.

"Are you always like this? So devil-may-care?"

"Pretty much, yeah," he replied with a shrug. "It's a burden."

The pair stood beside each other, still in the clothes they wore for dinner, leaning on Stark's second floor master bedroom balcony that overlooked Point Dume Bluff with a breathtaking panoramic view of the ocean.

"Oh, before I forget, about last night - " Jane began.

Like a strict den mother, she'd escorted Tony upstairs to his bedroom after blocking every attempt he made to get drunk, the two of them talking till almost dawn. They'd fallen asleep together on his bed, fully clothed, and she'd woken up spooned snugly against him, Tony's arms tightly wrapped around her waist, his face buried in her hair. He woke immediately when she stirred and quickly ordered breakfast in bed for two, Jane trying not to blush in reaction to Tony's relentless romantic gestures.

"I'm sorry," Stark interrupted her. "I don't...I'm _not_ a raging alcoholic...I just have a very bad habit of hitting the bottle to drown out my..." He closed his eyes. "Shit."

"What I meant to say was," Jane continued with a small smile. "That it's _my_ fault you were upset. I was careless last night. Captain Rogers now thinks you have some shady reason for smuggling him out of S.H.I.E.L.D. since...I kinda let it slip that you hacked into their mainframe and stole his file."

"...okay..." Stark said, a bit confused. "...you're not mad at me for my ugly whiskey binge last night?"

'You're a grown man, Tony. I'm not giving you a lecture," Jane replied, crossing her arms, her back to the railing. "We all have our way of dealing with...pain...but you _would_ be doing your liver a favor by going easy on the alcohol."

"Jane Foster, where the hell have you _been_ all my life?" Stark wondered, gazing at her warmly.

"Well, let's see..." Jane said playfully, looking away. "I fast-tracked myself through high school and university, became a Research Assistant for one of the top Physics Professors at Harvard which then led me to my current interest into areas of theoretical science that most people in the community consider insane. Meanwhile, _you_ were constantly in the media spotlight for one scandal after another, living it up like the billionaire arms dealer that you were before...anyway, our lives couldn't have _possibly_ had a chance to intersect - "

"You're here _now_," Stark appended with a smirk.

"I guess I am..." Jane said softly. Her heart hammered in her chest when Tony stepped closer and reached out to gently tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

"Excuse me, Mister Stark. There's an urgent call for you in a secured, encrypted signal," Jarvis chimed in. Jane looked worried while Stark muttered angrily to himself.

"Patch the signal to my bedroom monitor," he snapped, scowling when he saw who it was. He did nothing to hide his annoyance. "What?"

"Oh...I had no idea I was interrupting anything," Colonel Fury replied when he noted the presence of Foster who stood behind Stark in what appeared to be the mansion's master bedroom. The pair had rumpled clothing and disheveled hair.

"I'm not holding Rogers hostage. You can take him whenever you want," Stark said impatiently. "Just remember, you can't keep the guy cooped up indefinitely."

"I completely agree with you," Fury answered calmly.

"...you...wait-a-minute, what?" Stark reacted in confusion.

"I admit, when I first heard about your ballsy stunt in New York, I was a bit irritated. Though, Agent Coulson's more upset than I am, by the way, so do apologize to the man next time you see him," Fury requested.

"Okay...if you didn't call to yell at me..." Stark said with crunched brows.

"I've decided that it's best for Captain Rogers to stay with you for the time being. The facility in New York and its staff may not be the ideal location for his...recovery. An ocean view and temporary isolation from a noisy metropolis could be exactly what that man needs right now."

"Lemme know if I heard you right. I've gone from Public Enemy Number One on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s shit-list to...glorified babysitter?" Stark remarked in disbelief.

"I was going to say a 'facilitator' but if you prefer 'babysitter,' that works for me too," Fury replied with a smile that made Stark's scowl deepen.

"Do I have a deadline then? Were you hoping I'd rehabilitate Captain Rogers _for_ you?" Stark said acidly, crossing his arms.

"Tony, you were never remotely on my radar but your recent _acquisition_ of Captain Rogers from us has forced me to reevaluate. Therefore, instead of treating you as a 'nuisance' and allowing Agent Romanoff to personally kick your ass - something she's been itching to do since she met you - I'll be calling on you in...say, a month from now, to see how Captain Rogers is adjusting?"

"Fine," Stark said abruptly. "See you a month."

"Good," Fury replied with a wider smile.

He glanced briefly over his shoulder. "You _do_ know that Jane Foster's been here the entire time and can hear our every word," Stark pointed out, wondering why Colonel Fury hadn't asked Jane to leave the room.

"I'm fully aware of Miss Foster's presence there and I'm sure that a collaboration from both of you can only benefit us all in the end. Besides, Miss Foster's on the verge of building us a bridge to an entirely new universe. The least I can do, out of respect, is to not completely exclude her from what's been happening."

"What _is_ happening, Colonel Fury?" Jane asked bravely, stepping forward from behind Stark. "I've known Professor Erik Selvig a long time and I've never seen him so _consumed_ by a project. What is it? What have you found? Whatever it is that you have...it might be an important clue that could help me immensely with my research."

"We've considered that possibility, Miss Foster, but it's still too early to determine that. When we know more, I will fill you in or send Professor Selvig to you. In the meantime, please be patient and continue with your own research," Fury suggested. "Now that you have one of the most intelligent and innovative minds on the planet at your disposal, I'm sure a breakthrough's just around the corner." He shifted to address Stark. "See you in a month's time, Tony. Fury out."

"Oh, God..." Jane moaned when she heard Tony cursing softly to himself. "He knows what we're up to. I can feel it."

"Fury knows something, all right, but I don't think it has anything to do with us," Stark reassured her calmly.

"How can you say that? You heard him. All those implications weren't accidental," Jane argued. "Also, Colonel Fury was clearly evading my questions."

"Yeah, he does that a lot. _Loves_ being cryptic. Must get off on it," Stark remarked snidely.

"Maybe there's some information in those files you took?"

"Worth another look. Two heads are always better than one, so let's get cracking. We need to know what they're hiding," Stark supplied. "Whatever they've got, it's _big_ and S.H.I.E.L.D. _wants_ to keep it a secret. That can only mean one thing..."

"Power," Jane uttered reflexively, staring at Stark who nodded grimly.

* * *

><p>A black Aston Martin DB9 Coupe wound its way unhurriedly through downtown San Francisco and along The Embarcadero toward the city's tourist-congested Fisherman's Wharf. It was a short drive, no more than twelve minutes from their penthouse residence at the intersection of Market and Sixth, the import's two passengers mostly silent the entire trip.<p>

Parking at the first empty space they could find, the pair left the car and sauntered down Taylor, a street dominated by seafood restaurants and souvenir shops. Loki followed his companion down the sidewalk as Werner's gait slowed to a stop in front of Alioto's Waterside Cafe, a salmon-colored building with a gigantic '8' predominantly stenciled to it, the number's color matching large sea-green awnings along the front of the restaurant. On the roof, the name 'Alioto's' crowned the entire structure.

The former Asgardian frowned at the garishly designed architecture.

"Well, here we are," Alvis stated with a quirk of his lip. "The secret place that Mars can never know about."

"A seafood restaurant?" Loki said skeptically, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"You'll see why," Alvis answered cryptically, a twinkle in his gaze.

Intrigued, Loki trailed behind Werner past the double-door entrance and they were immediately assailed by the delicious smell of cooking seafood, the noise from customers and kitchen staff, as one voice rose above the clamor to greet them.

"Alvi!" called out an athletic man of about five-foot seven-inches, arms outstretched. He had short, cropped brown hair, boyish features and an infectious smile.

"Raz!" Alvis replied happily, the two hugging fiercely like long lost friends.

"This the guy you've been fussing about?"

"Adam Laoki meet Orazio Alioto. We were stationed in Africa together on a joint military peacekeeping mission for nearly three years," Alvis explained as he watched them shake hands.

"Call me Raz. My parents named me after my great grandfather," he laughed. "What's so special about _you_ that has Alvi here pulling favors?"

"You don't have to answer that," Alvi said quickly, knowing how Adam took things literally. "I'm just helping him out."

"Alvis has been more than generous," Loki said in his suave, well-enunciated British accent.

"Uh-huh..." Raz muttered, narrowing his eyes at Alvi's companion. "C'mon, we can talk downstairs." He indicated that they follow him. "Yo, Orso!"

A shorter, chubbier man with features somewhat similar to Raz's, popped his head up from behind a counter.

"Yeah?"

"Got business downstairs. You're in charge for a while, 'k, couz?" Raz grinned.

"Sure thing," Orso replied easily in a deep baritone, nodding slightly at Alvi and the new guy. "Oh yeah, yer Pops and Ma are droppin' by. They're bringin' Shelly."

"Ball park?" Raz asked.

"I'd say about...an hour?" Orso replied.

"Nah, if they've got Shelly, make that two. Plenty of time," Raz said. "Can you start the prep for me?"

"I'll squeeze it in. Go take care o' business so you ain't rushin' before they get here," Orso said, ushering them past the kitchen and down the stair to the basement.

"I haven't seen Massimiliano and Savina for a while. I can help," Alvi offered, knowing he and Adam had plenty of time to get to Carmel before three.

"No, no. You're a guest here. Ma and Pa will kill me if they found out I made you work in the kitchen," Raz countered. They walked past the basement storage rooms and freezers.

"I enjoy cooking. It's no bother," Alvi insisted with a smile. "It's the least I can do. You and your family have done so much for me already."

"Not fucking nearly enough is what they'll say and I'll agree with them," Raz responded. They stopped at an open door to a small room that served as an office with glaringly bright fluorescent lighting. "Wait in there while I get my camera."

"It's all right, Raz. I'd like to show Adam where we work," Alvi stated.

The former Navy SEAL came to a dead stop and stared at them. Any personal involvement with their clients was totally unnecessary and Werner's request was an unexpected shock.

"Sorry, we don't do tours," Raz remarked, glaring at Adam. The moment he was introduced to the man, it unnerved him greatly how supremely calm and confident the guy was. Good looks aside, the tall, slender, harmless-seeming, dark-haired, green-eyed, fair-skinned stranger...made him inexplicably uncomfortable. It was the damnedest thing too because very few things made him uneasy. Hell, even facing his own death hadn't made him feel like this. "Wanna fill me in here?"

"What do you mean?" Alvi replied, looking genuinely confused.

"Who _is_ he, Elvis?" Raz protested, falling back on Werner's old nickname. He'd mistakenly thought it was Alvi's real name when they'd first met, having repeatedly addressed him with it. Oddly enough, Alvis never bothered to correct him, letting it slide for a whole month. "We don't help fugitives, no exceptions."

"Adam's more what I'd call a refugee," Alvi corrected. "He's from Iceland."

"_Iceland_?" Raz repeated with a chuckle. "That explains the weird surname but unless that country was secretly colonized by the British..."

"Long story short, he's had an eccentric upbringing and unpleasant _personal_ circumstances have marooned him on our shores," Alvis supplied, glancing at Adam who nodded in confirmation.

"I simply wish to start a new life here and I needed documentation that Alvis has kindly offered to provide for me," Loki replied smoothly. Inwardly, he commended Werner for the surprisingly accurate generalization of his current condition. Now, he had to focus his gentle persuasion on Alvis's wary friend and colleague. "Perhaps we can reschedule the 'tour' for another time?"

"I was hoping you'd show Adam here your antiquities collection. He's a fellow enthusiast of ancient weaponry," Werner slyly continued, still harboring a great curiosity for Adam's origins and noted no discernible reaction to his statement.

"Why the hell didn't you just _say_ so then," Raz grumbled, shaking his head. "My line of work has its perks. C'mon, Adam, prepare to be amazed."

_Unless those weapons surpass the work of the Duergar, then I highly doubt it, _Loki thought with a snicker.

Raz led his guests into his office and locked the door. The room was small and strictly utility: a metal desk with an old computer, a worn out leather office chair, several file cabinets and stacks of binders. The walls were a faded yellow and on them, framed pictures of various sizes were flush-mounted. Some were of Raz with his parents, the rest presented him in a military uniform with selected teammates, a younger Alvis included, and the largest being a completed jigsaw puzzle of the Golden Gate bridge in hundreds of pieces.

"The code changes randomly every half hour, in case you get any ideas," Raz addressed their guest, his fingers pressing down on six puzzle pieces near the bottom of the jigsaw mural. There was a soft click and he approached one of the smaller filing cabinets which he effortlessly slid to the right as it disappeared into the taller one beside it, revealing a hidden crawl-space with a ladder leading downward.

"Alvi's a clever bastard when it comes to designing this Jame Bond shit," Raz grinned.

"Raz is too modest. My designs are worthless unless I know someone who can engineer the absolutely _awful_ electronic wiring," Werner chuckled.

"Guests first," Raz requested.

The trio descended to a dimly lit cement landing where the outlines of three metal doors with a brushed, silver finish were seen, each having no physical handles or knobs. Choosing the outline of a door to his left, Raz placed his right hand flat against an area just above where a doorknob should be, paused for three-seconds till they heard another soft click, then pushed, the door opening as if by magic.

There was mild appreciation from Loki as he walked through, the thick, solid metal door swinging open on large hinges, the air pressurized as it was shut.

"My joy in life," Raz said with a contented sigh.

Displayed on a majority of the 700 square foot space were intricately decorated weapons from around the world, each grouped in their country of origin.

"Quite...impressive," Loki said, feigning interest as he examined each of the relics, hardly affected by the weapon collection's overall craftsmanship - many were mainly used for ceremonial purposes - but was rather pleased with the variety. _It appears the humans have devoted much of their time to war-crafting. A few of these blades are decently forged._

As Loki's eyes traveled casually along the many swords, spears, throwing knives, war-hammers, bows and arrows, axes, clubs and shields...a particular dagger in a section called 'Scandinavia' made him involuntarily gasp.

"Adam?" Alvi said, concerned by his companion's sudden distress.

"Can it truly be..." Loki whispered, moving forward in a daze and reaching out to touch the dagger's ivory handle. _Could she be here? Alive?_

"Whoa, whoa, hold on there," Raz said, blocking Adam's advance. "Sorry, but I rarely touch these weapons myself and when I do, I wear museum-grade curator's gloves."

"I _know_ that dagger...but I need to be certain," Loki replied urgently. "May I see it? I give you my word, Raz, that I will handle it with the utmost care."

"Uh...okay..." Alioto responded carefully, brows knotted in confusion as he helplessly conceded to his new acquaintance's sincere request. In a daze of his own, he fetched a pair of white cotton gloves, handing them over to his green-eyed guest who immediately wore them.

Without hesitation, Loki's long fingers cradled the dagger as he examined the sets of runic calligraphy carved deeply into its sharp, double-edged blade, polished bone handle and matching leather scabbard.

"Adam, how is it that you 'know_'_ that dagger?" Werner asked, puzzled.

"...it once belonged to a dear friend..." Loki said sadly, his voice and expression filled with remorse. _Or perhaps, this is all that's left of her_.

"What? That's impossible!" Raz exclaimed in disbelief. "I bought that thing at an estate auction in Estonia just over a year ago."

"Estonia?" Alvis threw in.

"Later," Raz snapped back impatiently, thoroughly riveted by Adam's ridiculous claim regarding his dagger. "I thought it was worthless at first, I mean _look_ at it. Who'd be crazy enough to make a blade out of something as fragile as crystal? I'm a _weapons_ collector. I don't go around buying things that are shiny or pretty...but that dagger caught my eye the second I saw it and I just had to have it. The best part? I only paid fifteen-hundred Euros for it."

"Now _there's_ a bargain," Werner added with a smile of admiration.

"Hell, yeah," Raz said proudly. "I kept looking over my shoulder waiting for someone to outbid me. Lucky for me, nobody wanted to bid any higher. Right place, right time."

_Luck, indeed_, Loki commented to himself. Now that he'd confirmed the dagger's authenticity, he could easily explain that luck had _nothing_ to do with how it got there. However, he had no intention of sharing that knowledge since it would instantly raise more questions, provoking negative reactions from the humans. "This dagger once belonged to a dearest friend. We hail from the same village."

The two former soldiers stared at him dubiously.

"Where'd you _find_ this guy?" Raz said with a laugh. "Buddy, I had that thing tested and appraised. It's at least five thousand years old!"

"I'm aware of its age," Loki replied calmly, reluctantly returning the priceless relic to its pedestal display. "Have no fear, Raz, this dagger found its way to your doorstep and you are now its owner. I haven't the right to take it from you."

He promptly removed the cotton gloves from his hands and held them out to their host - who took them with a dumbstruck face - as he turned away to wander off to another area of the room.

"Mind clarifying some details for me?" Raz whispered sharply, waving the cotton gloves Adam had worn as he spoke. "How does a guy with a well-educated _English_ accent come from a fucking _village_ in Iceland where the people in it run around owning priceless relics?" When Werner floundered helplessly for words he added, "refugees or fugitives, fine, I can deal with that...but nut-jobs, Alvis? What's _wrong_ with you?"

_I'm beginning to wonder myself_, Werner thought. "It was Bryn who found him. He was stripped naked and badly beaten, left to die in an alleyway by a trash bin. She took care of him for an entire month before Mars and I found out. My gut reaction was to immediately drop him off at the nearest hospital but Bryn _begged_ us not to. So, Mars and I agreed to take him in, that way the _three_ of us could keep an eye on him. The last few days...have been very _unusual_, to say the least."

Listening patiently, Raz intermittently glanced at Adam who strolled casually around the room, unfazed by the fact that they were openly talking about him.

"What's his story?" he urged, burning with curiosity.

"Adam says he's from an isolated village whose residents practice the ancient lifestyle and tradition of the Vikings or as Mars calls it, a community of 'Norse Re-constructionists.' He's the second son of the village's ruling family but was cast out after a 'violent quarrel' with his elder brother and father. After his disgraceful banishment...he tried to kill himself but instead woke up here. He has no memory of how he arrived in America and why."

"...and you _believe_ him?" Raz declared in surprise. "That isn't like you."

"Spend a few days with him and you'll come to understand my conundrum," Alvis stated, shrugging.

"As I've told Alvis, his spouse Marius and their ward Brynhild when we first met: I intend them no harm," Loki spoke up, startling the two men as he walked toward them. "I'm indebted to Bryn for saving my life, and to Alvi and Mars for their exceptionally generous hospitality."

"We've also given him employment at the club," Alvis supplied.

"Norse Re-constructionists, huh?" Raz spoke after a few moments, eyeing Adam skeptically from head to toe. _A fucking head-case, Elvis? Shit. Retirement's finally gotten to ya, huh?_

"May I?" Loki said as he indicated the cotton gloves he'd worn previously.

When Raz handed over the gloves, he and Alvis watched as Adam wore them, briefly scanned the weapons in the Scandinavian section, selecting a bow and a single arrow from the display.

"This longbow stave is made of polished ash. It's maker took admirable care in curing the wood, making it both durable and pliable," Loki explained, testing the bow's weight and balance, his palm fitting comfortably in its worn, leather-bound grip. "This bowstring is a tightly woven composite of hemp fiber and several types of human hair usually taken from the bow-maker's lovers or family."

He strung it and pulled back, satisfied by the bow's overall draw weight.

"This arrow is part of a matching set, save three in that quiver, for it has the same quality of workmanship as the bow," Loki continued. "The arrow shaft is straight and the feathered fletching is well-preserved. Ah, it appears the craftsman left his signature."

He pointed to a series of tiny symbols with his forefinger as both Raz and Alvis came closer for a better look. When compared, the symbols on the bow's upper limb were clearly identical to the ones carved into the shafts of several arrows, save three, that were inside a sturdy, hardened leather quiver, also stamped with the same series of symbols and incorporated into its decorative stitching.

"I apologize in advance," Loki added clearly with a slight nod. Before either Raz or Alvis could react, he instantly sent an arrow flying across the room, hitting a spot on a mounted wooden plaque where the words 'North America' were carved.

"What the fuck!" Raz shouted in outrage.

"I merely dotted the 'I' in 'America.' It's hardly noticeable," Loki remarked, stifling a smile and cocking his head playfully to one side.

Sure enough, when Alvis and Raz ran to the mounted wooden plaque, they were amazed to find that Adam's arrow was embedded _perfectly_ _centered _within the dot above the lowercase 'I' in 'America.' Just as Adam predicted, because of the dark stain used in the calligraphy, pulling out the arrowhead's sharp, narrow tip left a barely detectable hole.

"How the f..." Raz remarked in astonishment as he and Werner exchanged the same flabbergasted expressions. As for Adam, the guy was nonchalantly returning the ancient Scandinavian bow he used to its display stand, discarding the cotton gloves. "You. Do that again."

_Shit. What have I done?_ Werner recognized the seriousness on Raz's face. Cursing his own curiosity, he'd unintentionally placed Adam in the spotlight, his friend now filled with a singleminded determination to unravel the mystery behind his strange houseguest.

"Pardon me?" Loki said, noting Raz's hard features.

"Not in here," Alioto clipped, heading straight for the door.

"Raz, maybe we can do this another time?" Alvis suggested.

"Now's the _perfect_ time," he answered back.

Back at the cement landing, the door to the trio's left swung shut with a swish. This time, Raz pushed open the door directly in front of them and briskly walked inside. The entire room was pitch black, giving Loki no idea of what to expect. Once the heavy door behind them closed securely, the room illuminated itself, dramatically causing the trio to briefly squint.

"What...is this place?" Loki asked, his eyes roaming around the spacious room.

"Welcome to our secret playroom," Alvis said with a wide smile, referring to their ultra modern indoor firing range. "Raz and I, along with former teammates who've permanently retired, converted the existing bunkers underneath this restaurant. Thick, water-sealed concrete with reinforced steel barriers, soundproofing, self-regulating silent ventilation and thermal shielding. As far as everyone else outside our little circle's concerned, this place doesn't exist and we prefer to keep it that way."

"I see," Loki replied. Although a majority of what was said made little sense to him, he understood Werner's request for secrecy.

To the immediate left was an enclosed space, deliberately separated from the rest of the area. Through the open doorway, the space was a bit untidy as filings and pieces of discarded metal were scattered on the floor, the various mechanical objects all having a strong smell of, at least to Loki, something totally unfamiliar.

"My personal domain," Alvis stated, pride evident in his voice. "In there, I indulge in a hobby that I'm not ready to give up just yet."

"Oh, and what hobby is that?" Loki said, peering into 'Werner's domain' by the doorway, the repugnant smell of artificial substances making his nose twitch.

"Weapons modification. I customize guns," he answered simply. When Adam looked blankly at him, he said, "You've never seen a gun before?"

"No, I haven't, though I know the definition of one," Loki admitted. "A gun is a weapon, a type of modern firearm that y...that's generally used in warfare or hunting. However, where I'm from, we have no need of these types of weapons, nor do we care to."

"People aren't allowed to carry guns in your village?" Alvis asked, a brow raised.

"The matter of whether guns are allowed or not is completely irrelevant," Loki explained. "Where I'm from, guns simply don't exist."

"I find that _very_ hard to believe," Raz disputed. "Iceland has never walled itself off from the rest of the planet where time stood still."

"Perhaps not, but I do recall the walls around my village being quite high," Loki said dryly, arms crossed.

"Sure, buddy, whatever," Raz said, shaking his head. "C'mon, I wanna see you hit some targets. Except, this time, I'm measuring."

"Will I be gauged on accuracy or distance?" Loki asked composedly.

"Both," Raz replied, handing Adam his favorite custom matte-black Hoyt Carbon RKT compound bow. It came with a modern quiver (looks like a miniature pool rack) that held a dozen Kevlar coated Easton Alloy/Carbon Pro Field arrows with modified tournament tips and synthetic fletching. "What?" he added, wondering why Adam held his compound bow awkwardly like some dead animal. "Something wrong?"

"This_..._is a _bow_?" Loki remarked as he stared at the twisted monstrosity. "I've seen many bows...but none such as this." _Not a repulsive corruption of one_.

"Maybe you could lend Adam your hunting bow instead?" Alvis said in his houseguest's defense.

Relenting, Raz exchanged his competitive compound bow with a camouflage painted Hoyt Buffalo recurve, resembling a more traditional design.

"I've been wanting to test the adjustments I made on that one anyway," Raz said, placing his elaborate compound bow back on a utility rack mounted to the room's far left wall. Just as Werner had his 'domain' then so did he. Along the indoor range's left wall was a long metal shelf covered with miscellaneous parts: arrow shafts, vanes, strings, laser sights, stabilizers, limbs, rests, enough to built several modern bows from scratch. On the floor were storage units containing tools and a mix of accessories. In contrast, his area was much cleaner than Werner's. Several years ago, during his first years in the military serving the 75th Ranger Regiment, he'd crossed paths with a man who turned out to be a mutual friend of theirs. The man was a force of nature, a legendary sharpshooter in his own right, who'd worked with his battalion as a special consultant. Even to this day, he practically idolized the guy.

"Are you gearing up for a tournament?" Alvis inquired, having caught a look of fond reminiscence on his friend's face. "Did Barton invite you to one?"

"Yeah, he fired off a text to me three days ago. Clint's been itching to join this NFAA World Archery Festival in Vegas. Says he's gonna be in town for a while," Raz mentioned, walking toward them with a selection of paper targets.

"He's in the mood to show off then," Alvis chuckled. "I hear the Vegas prize money's always a good bonus." Barton, their mutual friend, had kept in touch with them intermittently over the years.

"Jackpot's the highest it's ever been. It's set at four-hundred and fifty-thousand this year," Raz disclosed, Werner whistling in reaction.

"No wonder," he chuckled.

"Okay, I got circles, bad guys, hostage situation or deer." Raz held up four different printed targets.

"Deer," Loki chose. He watched as Alioto walked through a floor-to-ceiling metal frame with five, evenly proportioned stalls, the entire thing bolted to a raised concrete platform that faced a tilted, blackened wall riddled with holes, several meters away.

"What should we start him at?" Alvis asked, leaning beside a six-by-seven sized touch screen console integrated to the wall at the right of the shooting station. He brought forward a special target padded with dense, self-sealing foam used mainly for arrows and Raz tacked on the paper target Adam had picked.

"Each point on the deer's about ten centimeters in diameter...let's do thirty yards back," Raz suggested, dying to know if lightning struck twice. (30 yards = 90 feet = 27.43 meters)

"Are you okay with that?" Alvis said, looking at Adam and receiving a single nod of consent. It was an ambitious distance for a first shot with entirely new equipment. However, his handsome houseguest had done the impossible with antiques!

_These mortals desire to test me, do they_? Loki thought to himself. _I may be in this diminished form but it appears that my aim remains true. Were I my proper self, I would take great offense to their mistrust and disbelief...yet I'm as equally curious of my current limits as they are_. The second one Raz had lent him, though its construction was rather odd, appeared and felt more like a real bow than the first. He'd have to learn what kind of materials these contemporary humans used to make it. "Which part of the deer do you wish me to hit?"

"That depends," Raz said with a smirk. "On which parts the hunters of your village aim at to kill one." Adam shot him an offended look.

Taught to hunt at an early age, Loki disliked his chosen target's crudely drawn diagram, the indicated shot placements worthlessly inaccurate. He'd have to find live deer to better judge his present skill level. In addition, the human's condescension made him angry.

"It's either the heart or the head," Loki ground out, taking aim and selecting a target. "I'll settle for the heart." He released his arrow.

Openly cursing, Raz gaped at where Adam's arrow had landed _dead center_ on the paper target, a guaranteed critical hit. Alvis reacted with an appreciative whistle.

"Satisfied?" Loki asked stiffly.

"Fuck, no. You're doing a shot at sixty yards," Raz replied and caught Adam rolling his eyes. (60 yards = 180 feet = 54.86 meters)

"Raz, I think we've done enough for today," Alvis spoke up, noting the angry, offended look in Adam's eyes and knew that his houseguest was graciously masking his ire. His friend was crossing them into dangerous territory. He'd seen firsthand what Adam's volatile emotions were capable of and hoped that an outburst was preventable.

"Fine," Raz shrugged. "We'll stop...but only if Adam thinks he can't make the shot."

"Alvis, move the target to sixty yards," Loki requested politely with a forced smile, ready to nock another arrow. "It's all right. I'm curious myself."

_How can that bastard be so calm?_ Raz fumed. He'd only ever seen _one_ man do the impossible in his lifetime...and that man was Clint Barton. He refused to believe that a crazy, wannabe Viking role-player had marksmanship skills that rivaled his mentor!

"Shall I again aim for the heart?" Loki said, watching the paper target stop at the farthest end of the range.

"Tricky as hell shot, but hey, be my guest," Raz replied, crossing his arms. Outwardly, he pretended to be unconcerned, but inwardly, he was as tense as a drawn bowstring. Without a doubt, there was much _more_ to Adam Laoki's seemingly mild-mannered appearance. He'd be doing a thorough background check on the guy the second he had a chance, beginning with a full set of fingerprints he'd be dusting off his equipment.

Nearly grinding his teeth in annoyance, Loki aimed at a spot that was a hair below his first arrow, already dead center. He'd have to nudge it out of the way to make room for a second. He took a slow steady breath, further drawing back the bowstring to compensate for distance and when he was ready, released it.

"That's impossible!" Raz shouted out, more exasperated than amazed. "There's no way, _no fucking way_ a deranged pretty-boy like you can shoot like this!" Stomping toward the indoor range's main control console, he swiftly recalled the sixty-yard target for closer inspection.

"Then enlighten me. What criteria did I fail to meet?" Loki asked, his irritation now plain. He was about to stalk toward Raz when he felt Alvis's hand on his shoulder.

"Forgive my friend, Adam," he said placatingly. "He has a one-track mind sometimes. We've only met one other man with impeccable marksmanship like yours."

"Oh? Who is this man?" Loki asked, rather intrigued and a bit skeptical that a mere human possessed such skill.

"Perhaps we can arrange for the two of you to meet," Alvis said with a smile. "Raz, when's Barton due for a visit?"

"What the fuck, Elvis? Doesn't any of this _bother_ you?" Raz exclaimed in outrage. Werner's irrationally pacified behavior was making him gag.

"To be honest, Raz, normally it would," Alvis answered. "Over the last few days...I've come to expect the unexpected regarding Adam." He bit his lip when his friend and colleague gaped in reaction.

"Know what? We'll deal with this shit later. My folks are coming over with Shelly and I got prep to do," Raz replied irately, swiping his hunting bow and its remaining arrows from Werner's weirdo and promptly returned the items to his work area. When he spotted his camera, he remembered the main reason for his friend's visit. "You, stand over there."

He watched as Werner led Adam to a designated portion of the indoor range's wall-space where a large, white square was painted. It was the backdrop they used for client photography.

"Hold perfectly still and don't smile."

_I had no intention to_, Loki thought, holding back a scowl. For the moment, he needed to distance himself from the offending human or yield to the temptation of slowly disemboweling the man.

"Take him upstairs. I'll be done in half an hour," Raz instructed, fiddling with his camera.

Clearing his throat, Alvis ushered Adam out of the room and back to the central landing. He then approached a covered touch panel near the access ladder, punching in a timed code that allowed them to exit.

"Sorry about all that back there," Werner said with smile. "Don't think badly of him. He tends to fly headfirst into things sometimes."

"I see," Loki replied. _Flying headfirst into things is what Thor does best_. "What shall we do now?"

"I'd like to help Raz out in the kitchen," Alvis said as they ascended the aluminum access ladder with its tubular safety-cage from the subterranean bunker.

At the top of the ladder, Werner placed his fingertips around a fitted, sunken handle as he slid aside the filing cabinet prop above their heads that blocked their exit. Once inside the Alioto restaurant's sparse basement office, the pair watched as the file cabinet slid back into place over the hidden opening.

"After you," Alvis directed as they headed for the office door. "This door locks itself from the inside." When the pair stepped outside the room, he reached around the door with his right arm. "I just need to position the latch like so..." Withdrawing his arm, he quickly closed it.

Loki heard a sharp click as the office door bolted itself securely.

"...and the mechanism does the rest," Werner said proudly. "Come, I'll show you around the restaurant."

* * *

><p>"Don't worry, Mars, everything will be fine," Bryn reassured him with a grin. "I know you hate this thing Alvi does but he comes back to you every time."<p>

"If our roles were reversed, dearie, you wouldn't be as patient as I am right now," Mars replied testily. "Neither would you be so tolerant if your significant other was _openly_ keeping secrets from you."

"Yeah...I guess you're right," Bryn agreed with a tiny frown. "I can still _try_ to cheer you up."

"I know you will," Mars chuckled.

The pair zipped along Highway 101 in a candy-red Honda CR-Z hybrid as they neared the final length of their two-hour trip from San Francisco to the city of Carmel, California.

"You think Gracie's got a brunch waiting for us?" Bryn asked with excitement.

"He always does," Mars grinned, shaking his head. "One of these days you're going to slip and call him 'Gracie' by accident. There's only one person in the world who can call him that."

"Well, if I do, then I'll make sure to give him a proper apology and bow to him or something," Bryn said mischievously, earning a 'scandalized' look from Mars.

Gratian Swane was a longtime friend of both her guardians whom they met through mutual acquaintances while on a stopover in Swane's hometown of Nottinghamshire, England. He was a tall, handsome English gentleman who was always impeccably dressed in public, popular among his peers and possessed the largest collection of personally commissioned Fabergé Eggs in North America. There was also the rumor that he'd once been the exclusive tailor to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II of England. Of course, the man refused to either deny or confirm that rumor. Personally, Bryn believed that Gratian started the rumor himself.

"You think Adam will tell you about where he's been with Alvi?" Bryn said.

"I don't think so. Adam strikes me as the sort of gentleman who can be sworn to secrecy if you asked him," Mars remarked. "No. If he'll say anything, he'll say it you."

"What makes you think he'll confide in me like _that_?" Bryn responded in surprise.

"We can begin with the obvious: you saved his life. Then...there's that thing when he propositioned himself to you as your personal slave." Bryn made a face like she just smelled a skunk. "Anyway, all things considered...I think he really likes you more than he lets on," Mars stated with a smile.

"Maybe in some inter-dimensional _dreamworld_," she retorted with a quirk of her lips. "Besides...when it comes to _that_...I'm gonna need a whole heap of convincing."

"Why is Adam liking you so hard to believe?"

"Hmm, where do I start," Bryn replied animatedly. "Nope, not going there."

In the background, the song 'It's the End of the World As We Know It' by REM had been playing on the satellite radio channel they were listening to and she thought it was poignant to mark their topic of conversation. She listened to the song for a few more verses before switching to a Chill mix, settling instead on a mellower tune, 'Sparks' by Röyksopp.

Their CR-Z exited Highway 101 and took the off-ramp onto Highway 156 West to the Monterey Peninsula.

"Beautiful day. We should be in Carmel by ten-thirty," Mars announced.

"Good. Let's get this fitting over with."

"You don't like Gratian very much, do you?" Mars grinned.

"I think the feeling's mutual. He's so full of himself sometimes. Someday, I'm gonna have to call him out on one of his stories," Bryn mentioned.

"Unless you have an inside connection to the British Royal family...I guess we'll never know."

"Maybe we should try calling Buckingham Palace to ask them if they've even _heard_ of him," Bryn laughed.

Highway 156 West gave way to Cabrillo Highway/Coastal Highway 1 as their CR-Z whizzed past meager grassy landscape, the sea's vast presence to their right occasionally hidden from view by urban development and high, sandy mounds. Eventually, sandy grass knolls became thick clumps of local pine, cypress and other indigenous vegetation as they turned right onto Ocean Avenue toward the coast in the manicured little city of Carmel-by-the-Sea.

"Trust Gratian to pick the best place to live," Bryn commented as they drove past Carmel Plaza filled with unique designer boutiques and restaurants to please tourists and vacationing residents alike. She loved coming here. It was a beautiful, picturesque place, an upscale beach town that served as a quiet haven for the wealthy and an ideal setting for the pursuit of aesthetics.

It was here in Carmel that Gratian Swane designed his home and workshop, an ideal living space where he could devote his expensive tailoring expertise to his long list of exclusive clientele. At the very end of Ocean Avenue sat a renovated bungalow next to a public, sandy-white strip of beach; a line of tall, thick and leafy, shady trees giving the home some privacy.

Mars slid his candy-red CR-Z into one of five spaces near the property labeled 'Guest,' his eyes immediately drawn to a volcanic-orange McLaren MP4-12C conspicuously parked in one of the four empty spots painted with 'Client.'

"Whoa, who the hell's Gracie got in there," Bryn blurted out as she stared at the exotic orange McLaren sports car that averaged a minimum retail price of $315,000-$380,000. "Does he have a new boyfriend he's not telling you guys about?"

"Possibly," Mars answered slowly, staring at the McLaren's vanity plate that simply read 'Stark.' He pointed to it and added. "See what the plate says?"

"Stark..." Bryn read out loud. "Stark naked? Stark rich? Whoever it is, that car obviously belongs to some egomaniac."

"You should read the news more often, dearie," Mars remarked. "Anyway, does the name Iron Man ring a bell?"

"Wait," Bryn's mouth suddenly gaped. "You're not seriously saying that...in there? _Right now?_"

"Could be," Mars smiled impishly, amused by Bryn's reaction since it wasn't a rare thing for him to randomly run into high profile celebrities. Since the grand opening of the Bourgeoisie night club, he and Alvis Werner couldn't seem to get away from them. He'd long observed that his better half had a hilarious and uncanny ability to draw them in like a magnet, a 'talent' that Werner constantly denied having. "Alvi and I have met him several times."

"You guys have _met_ Tony 'Iron Man' Stark?" Bryn replied as they walked up to Gratian's steel gate and intercom box.

"We were introduced to Stark a few years ago and he's been one of our most consistent patrons. The last time we saw him was a few weeks before his...unfortunate disappearance overseas," he answered. "He was a popular regular at the club before we met you, although, he was a much _different_ man back then. He partied like a madman and even frequently bought the club out for private functions and, well...despite Stark being our club's most generous benefactor, it saddens me to say that in those days, he was a pompous, ill-tempered, high-maintenance, self-centered bastard."

"And, now?"

"He seems calmer and a bit more gracious. Alvi's spoken to him over the phone a few times but we haven't met him in person recently," he replied, pressing a brushed metal intercom button. "Gratian, it's Mars. I'm here with Bryn for a fitting."

"Hello, Uncle Mars. Gracie's with a client right now but I'll let you in and you can both wait in the study," spoke a young woman with a soft, cultured English accent.

"Thank you, Savannah," Mars replied in surprise, releasing the button. "My, she's here early this year."

Bryn grinned excitedly as the main gate unlatched itself and they walked through the perfectly landscaped front garden to the house's main door. "That girl owes me a night out."

Savannah Douglas Swane was Gratian's niece, his elder sister's daughter who he'd legally adopted at the tender age of three since the untimely death of her parents. Bryn was introduced to Savannah a few weeks after her new guardians found her and the pair bonded instantly over their shared tragedies. Born in Pennsylvania, Savannah usually stayed with Gratian for the summer and for the rest of the year lived at St. Swithun's, a prestigious boarding school for girls in England. Like her mother, she was blossoming into a statuesque golden blonde with porcelain skin and soulful grey eyes.

"Savvy!" Bryn called out, the pair giggling and squealing as they hugged each other tightly. She enjoyed permanently teasing Savannah's obsession with Johnny Depp in the movie 'The Pirates of the Caribbean' by giving her the nickname 'Savvy.'

"Good to see you back, dearest," Mars greeted, warmly embracing Savannah. "Heavens, I can't believe how much you've grown."

"I've only been gone a few months Uncle Mars," she laughed. "Don't you dare harp on about how 'old' you're getting either."

"So, Sav, is it true? Does Gratian have _the_ Tony Stark in there?" Bryn elbowed, looking in the direction of Swane's sequestered workshop, a comfortable well-lit area of the house behind beautiful closed glass doors. She saw two silhouettes moving around inside.

Gesturing with her finger for them to keep quiet, Savannah led them to the house's study, quickly sliding shut the room's heavy oak doors.

"Gracie's current client requests that his identity remain anonymous," Savannah said, Mars snickering in response. "Although, the client's car outside suggests otherwise."

The trio sat together on a large, leather couch.

"Ya think? Bright freaking orange with a plate that practically advertises its owner," Bryn laughed. "He's turning out to be exactly what the tabloids say he is."

"I would've agreed with you before...but now I'm not so sure. He's...changed."

"Oh? You spoke to him?" Mars asked curiously, knowing that Savannah had more personal knowledge of the man than any of them did. Tony Stark was one of Gratian's favorite customers, though he suspected that Swane valued Stark more for his wallet than his friendship.

"I remember seeing much of him here during the past summers," Savannah reminisced. "He always came with a flashy car - that hasn't changed - or with two or three women attached to him like leeches. He always smelled strongly of alcohol or too much cologne and spoke obnoxiously loud. When I was younger, Gracie always told me to go to my room whenever he came to visit." She smiled then paused, a puzzled look on her face.

"Go on," Mars encouraged.

"He's not that man anymore, Uncle Mars," Savannah stated sincerely. "Whatever happened to him...after his disappearance overseas...I think it changed him...for the better."

"We'll see. Alvi and I haven't met him in person since his days at the club," Mars said, Bryn listening to them quietly.

"I did overhear that he's in town this afternoon. He's having dinner down the street at Andre's," Savannah informed them as Bryn's eyes went wide.

"Maybe we'll meet him there," Mars shrugged. "We have a reservation for seven tonight. If you and Gratian don't have any plans, would you like to join us?"

"That would be lovely," Savannah said happily. "I'll ask Gracie."

They heard voices and chuckling outside the study doors.

"That's Stark, all right," Mars confirmed. "I'd know that laugh anywhere."

"Ooh, lemme see," Bryn whispered sharply, darting to the study doors and carefully parting them open for a peek. Standing in the house's foyer was Gratian who was talking to a roguishly handsome man in a dark suit and tie. "Holy shit...it's _him._"

"Sssh. They'll hear us," Savannah warned her with a giggle.

"Sounds like your niece found some playmates," Stark grinned, slyly glancing toward the eyes that peered at him from the slightly opened doors of the study. He laughed when the doors slid shut with a dull tap, Gratian sighing beside him.

"Savannah's keeping Marius Casen and a young woman, Bryn Seaver, who Marius and Alvis Werner have taken under their wing recently. You do remember Mars and Alvi?" Gratian prodded, lifting a brow.

"How could I forget? Those were _wild_ times," Stark grinned, shaking his head. "They both still own the Bourgeoisie?"

"Oh, yes. They even renovated the place to accommodate a dance club setting and I hear business is booming."

"The sunnovagun took my advice," Stark laughed. "Hey, Mars, quit hiding in there. Come on out and say 'hi.'

At those words, Mars, Bryn and Savannah spilled out of the study and into the foyer.

"Savannah?" Stark exclaimed in surprise. "Damn, you've grown."

"She's just like her mother," Gratian said fondly, planting a kiss on her forehead when she tucked herself against him. "_You_ are staying the hell away from her."

"Whoa, Gray, _relax_," Stark said, holding his hands up and backing away. "I'm not a complete bastard." He turned to the two standing to his left. "Mars, it's been a while." They shook hands. "Gray here tells me you've given the club a major makeover. How's Alvi these days?"

"The economy's been good to us and the work we've done to the club's more of a supplementary design. Like a naughty Cinderella, the Bourgeoisie's now a fully functioning dance club after midnight," Mars replied, crossing his arms.

"Who's the lovely brunette?" Stark asked smoothly.

"She's their club's most popular feature," Gratian interrupted, earning a frown from his niece, a menacing glare from Bryn and a withering look from Mars. "What?"

"Bryn Seaver," she said with a tight smile, gripping Stark's hand in a firm shake.

"Tony Stark, but I guess you already knew that," he said with a bright smile. "If you wouldn't mind, Bryn, I haven't been to the club lately and I'd be delighted to see you dance." He kissed the top of her right hand, his patented charm in full swing.

"Uh...sure," she said with mixed emotions, still glaring daggers at Gratian for deliberately trying to embarrass her.

"Here's my home number," Stark said, his thumb navigating through his phone's digital menus. "Get Alvi to call me or leave a message with Jarvis or Pepper if I don't pick up. I've got some friends that need unwinding." When he handed Mars his cellphone - the number presented in a bold font - he caught a flash of envy from Gratian. He almost never gave out his home number to anyone, but decided to make an exception given his history with Alvis and Mars, prompting him to make amends. During his numerous visits to the Bourgeoisie, the club's owners had been incredibly discreet and had shown him on many occasions that they could be trusted. He couldn't count how many nights he'd ended up totally trashed at the club, and somehow, he always awakened the following morning in his own bed without the press on his heels. "You have my word that I'll behave this time."

"We all have our demons, Mister Stark," Mars said knowingly.

"Call me Tony. Mister Stark was my dad," he replied with a warm smile. There was a loud chime from his cellphone. "Sorry kids but I gotta run. It was nice to meet you, Bryn. I'm sure we'll meet again."

With a parting wave, he dashed out the front door, Mars staring thoughtfully after him.

"Uncle Mars and Bryn are having dinner at Andre's Bouchée this evening. I'm joining them," Savannah stated, not asking for permission. She'd turned eighteen at St. Swithun's a month ago and wasted no time applying her newfound independence.

"We'll take her straight home after dinner," Mars said reassuringly.

"All right," Gratian said softly. Savannah was indeed growing up and he feared the day she would permanently move away from him.

"Can we do my fitting now, please?" Bryn asked brusquely, wanting to leave. Savannah's presence was the only reason she restrained herself from easily chewing out Gratian for what he'd done. The guy practically implied that she was some kind of slut! Just because she danced _naked_ in front of a crowd of people and...shit. There were worse things other women did to themselves for money and exotic dancing was the least of them.

"Come, Bryn, let's have a bit of brunch," Savannah suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

As Bryn and Savannah walked past the ornate glass doors of the house's comfortable living room workshop, Swane felt a firm grasp to his left arm, forcing him to stay in place.

"I don't know why you dislike Bryn so much, Gratian, but trying to embarrass her like that? Contemptible," Mars warned him. "Don't you dare do it again."

In all the years he'd known Mars, Swane had never seen him angry. Judging by the sharp blaze in Casen's eyes...he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"You and Alvi still don't realize how much having Bryn around has affected you both," Gratian observed. "It's terrifying isn't it? Assuming the roles of parents? Always wondering if they're safe, if they're making the right decisions for themselves or if they even think of you at all?"

"I..." Mars faltered, speechless, releasing Swane's arm.

"I'll apologize to her," Gratian said seriously. "Also, that girl's much stronger than you think…" He frowned slightly, looking away. "...it's part of why I have such animosity toward her. Bryn's a very good example of fierce independence...something I see Savannah emulating every time she's near. Is it so selfish of me to try keeping little Vanny around for just a little longer?"

"She only lives with you for the summer months," Mars reminded him.

"The women in my family have all graduated from St. Swithun's and loved it there. It's a good school and I _won't_ break that tradition," Gratian rebuffed. "Though it may look like I've conveniently shipped her off and out of my way, not a day goes by that I wish she was _here_, in Carmel...with _me_." He paused, taking a moment to compose himself. "Besides, I've...always been available to her through video chat or speed dial and I could get on a plane at a moment's notice if she needed me to."

"Has she needed you to?" Mars asked softly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Has Savannah ever _asked_ you to visit her?" Mars clarified.

"Well, not specifically..."

"Have you ever shown up at her dormitory unannounced?"

"Of course not, that's preposterous! The school has regulations on proper visitation etiquette - "

"You asked me earlier if I thought it was selfish of you to keep 'Little Vanny' around," Mars countered. "Yes, Gratian, you're being selfish. Savannah's eighteen now. She's not a child anymore. You can't just snap your fingers and take back the time you've lost with her. It's gone!" The color seemed to drain from Swane's face. "You're right about one thing...finding Bryn was the _best_ thing that ever happened to Alvi and me. She gave us a greater purpose, something that fulfills us more than the club we own or the money we make or even the love we share. For years...Alvi and I watched you trying to raise Savannah on your own. I admit that we'd always _dreaded_ that kind of responsibility...but deep inside...we envied you." He walked toward his friend and placed a hand lightly on his arm. "Let Savannah be, Gratian...but tell her how you really feel. Don't wait any longer...or she'll slip away from you forever."

Anticipating that his friend would fall apart, Mars quickly led them to the house's study, sliding the doors shut.

* * *

><p>About two hours north of Carmel-by-the-Sea, in the busy kitchen of Alioto's Seafood Restaurant at Fisherman's Warf, Alvis Werner was busy helping his friend and ex-military colleague, Raz, prepare a special brunch for his visiting parents who were bringing his daughter, Shelly, for a visit.<p>

Given a brief tour of the restaurant and surrounding area, a former immortal resident of Asgard sat at a reserved booth on the quieter second floor, staring at the finalized formal documentation that identified him as Adam Laoki, human resident of the city of San Francisco and repatriated citizen of the United States of America.

_What a dreadful photograph_, Loki thought with a frown, clamping his passport booklet closed. The same picture that Raz had taken of him was also used for his Driver's License. Fanning out the rest of his human I.D. on the table, his eyes drifted to his Birth Certificate, Social Security Card, Bank Account statement, Credit Card and with the additional bonus of private Health Insurance. He was warned that he'd need to fill out more 'paperwork' for his employment at the club.

_Ridiculous_, Loki sighed, gathering the paper documents and stuffing them back into an opaque plastic sleeve just as the squeals of a delighted little girl echoed up from below. Peering over the low wall of the restaurant's second floor, he watched as a young girl ran straight into Raz's waiting arms.

"How's my crazy munchkin?" he laughed, lifting his six-year-old daughter high into the air as she laughed excitedly. Giving her a big kiss on the cheek, he passed her to Alvi. "Hey, ma, pop." Both his parents embraced him tightly.

Smiling warmly, the older woman gave Alvis a tight hug, the older man firmly shaking his hand as they clapped each other on the back.

"Who's that, Daddy?" Shelly spoke up, staring at a tall man with shoulder-length, wavy black hair as he descended the stairs.

"Nobody. He's just a client of Alvi's," Raz said, moving closer to his daughter.

"Adam Laoki, these are Raz's parents, Savina and Massimiliano Alioto."

"Hello," he greeted with a radiant smile. He shook hands with the older man which seemed customary but kissed the top of the older woman's right hand, pleasantly surprising her.

"Oh! That made me feel young again," Savina said, totally flattered, fanning herself. "Where are you from?"

"Long story short, Adam here has had a very _eccentric_ upbringing," Alvi said quickly, clearing his throat and leaving no room for further questions. "Shall we?"

"What have we here? Who is this little princess?" Loki asked dramatically, kneeling down to the girl's height with a flourish as she giggled.

"I'm Shelly!" she said proudly with a grin. "I'm six and I _like_ being a princess."

"You do, do you?" Loki grinned back.

"You have children of your own?" Savina asked curiously, surprised that little Shelly had warmed up to the stranger so quickly.

"Okay, let's eat," Raz announced, trying to stop his parents from questioning Alvi's weird client and current houseguest.

Holding onto Shelly's hand, Alvi ushered their group upstairs to a private dining room while Raz went to the kitchen to fetch their specially prepared lunch. They all sat at a round table at the edge of an arrangement for some other function later that day, a wedding dinner, as Loki glanced at the formal invitation printed on thick white paper decorated with small lavender flowers.

Everyone had a pleasant meal and good conversation as Loki observed their behavior, listening quietly to the stories that were told. The almost three year period when Werner and Orazio were stationed together in Africa were some of the most challenging and violent missions of their military career. The turmoil and destruction had bonded their team of special forces soldiers, all from different areas of expertise, into an efficient defense force that kept them alive until the day an enormous explosion leveled their base of operations. Alvis had emerged from unconsciousness first, and despite his loss of hearing and many injuries, managed to salvage the living five out of the twelve of their team by dragging them to a hidden location, valiantly keeping them safe until they were rescued.

That single act of bravery had earned Alvis the honor of wearing the Victoria Cross, a military medal of the highest award in Great Britain, however, he'd always felt undeserving of the medal and wished that he could have done more to save his _entire_ team. Wanting a totally different change of pace, he left England and moved to America where he and Raz, a former Navy SEAL and the only American assigned to his team, kept constantly in touch, encouraging each other's hobbies and keeping each other sane. Raz's parents in particular were eternally grateful to Alvis for saving their son's life and constantly showed their appreciation.

It was at this juncture of the storytelling where Loki learned that Alvis preferred to keep his personal life strictly _separated_ from his dangerous hobbies, his friend and colleague adhering to the request without question, though knew certain details. He was aware of Alvi's relationship to Mars and Bryn but kept it to himself, with no disclosure of the information to his parents.

When the topic shifted, Raz was instantly tightlipped about his daughter and her missing mother. Shelly had long since wandered off and was on the carpeted floor, enthusiastically drawing in her coloring book with a large pack of crayons. After a while, Loki decided to join the little girl the instant their group's current topic lost his interest.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the child, Loki began helping her pick colors for her next masterpiece. As her giggling turned to peals of laughter, it caught the attention of the group still seated at the table.

"Shelly seems to like him," Alvis grinned, mentally shaking his head in wonder.

"Mmmhmm..." Raz grunted, watching Adam's actions with his daughter like a hawk.

"I've never seen her so taken by a complete stranger before," Savina commented.

"He must have a family of his own," Massimiliano guessed since the man obviously knew how to deal with children.

"Anyway, it's been wonderful seeing you both again but Adam and I need to go," Alvi said. "I'm meeting someone in Carmel this afternoon and we have bit of a drive ahead." He stood up and warmly embraced the elder couple, clapping Raz on the back. "All right, Adam. Time to go."

"Awww," Shelly whined and pouted. "Can Adam stay, Daddy?"

"Sorry, baby, but Uncle Alvi and his friend have to go," Raz replied firmly.

"No fair," Shelly muttered, crossing her arms. "I was having fun."

"As did I," Loki said gently. "Perhaps someday we'll meet again. For now, here's a gift to remember me by." He produced an elaborately cut paper crown he'd made while she wasn't looking and even had time to decorate it with her crayons.

"Cool!" Shelly said happily and beamed with joy when it was placed on her head. "Daddy, Daddy! Look it! I'm a princess!"

"Indeed you are," Loki laughed as she jumped around.

"Wow...that's...great," Raz said to please his daughter, staring at the colored paper crown on her head and how happy it made her.

The Alioto family escorted them to the front of the restaurant, Alvis and his companion waving to them, Shelly's loud goodbyes making them smile.

"That little girl's quite taken with you," Alvi said as they walked around the corner to a black Aston Martin DB9 Coupe.

"What happened to Shelly's mother?" Loki asked, straight to the point.

Werner stayed quiet until their vehicle merged with local traffic headed south on Highway 101.

"Raz met Shelly's mother when he was stationed on an aircraft carrier on route to his next mission. This was years before I met him. He and Karen were together for almost three years before the pressure of their individual careers began to sink in. Karen loved her job as a communications officer, had worked hard to get to her position and was reluctant to leave it. Meanwhile, Raz's dangerous assignments as a Navy SEAL meant that he'd disappear for months at a time on assignment without warning, with no knowledge or communication of where he was. They loved each other, but at the time, couldn't make it work to raise a family. Eventually they broke up and it was hard on both of them."

"Yet despite their difficulty...they had a child," Loki mentioned.

Sighing, Alvi continued. "After a year of zero contact between them, a baby carrier was left at the restaurant with a note. It was from Karen, telling Raz that they had a daughter, that her name was Shelly and that she needed his help looking after her till she got back from rotation to Afghanistan."

There was a moment of silence before anyone spoke.

"She didn't return," Loki concluded as Alvi nodded sadly.

"No, she didn't," Alvi said softly. "Raz has a difficult time talking about Karen. Even mentioning her name makes him upset."

"Then looking upon his daughter's face reminds him of her mother...which is why he's sent Shelly away to live with his parents."

"Raz visits her often and he's working hard, saving money away for her future. She'll be starting grade school soon."

A ringtone informed Alvis of an incoming text message.

"Would you get that for me, please?" Alvi requested, pointing to his black iPhone tucked away in a recess on the car's dashboard. His DB9 had handsfree Bluetooth but he was curious to see how Adam would deal with verbal instruction and modern technology. After all, they'd hired the guy to do administration work at the club and most of the forms were on a laptop.

"I don't know how to…" Loki began, staring at the object in his hands.

"At the bottom, beneath the small screen, press your finger into that spot with the square symbol on it," Alvis instructed, quickly flipping his phone right side up. "Do you see instructions with an arrow pointing to the blinking words 'slide to unlock?'"

"Yes, I do."

"Place your finger on the screen and touch the square with the arrow then slide it all the way to the right. Good, now, you'll see a collection of colored squares each labeled with a specific function. Find a green icon with the caption 'messages.'"

"I see it."

"Touch that icon with your finger."

"Done."

"Tell me what you see."

"I see...two columns. The white column on the left has...names. The grey column on the right is filled with words in...bubbles."

"All right, using your finger on the _left_ column, swipe upward to scroll down the list and find Mars's name."

"I found it," Loki said excitedly, delighted by the way he was interacting with the little human-made gadget.

"Touch Mars's name and you'll highlight it in blue which then changes the group of words in the grey column on the right to all the messages he's sent me."

"What next?"

"Scroll to the very bottom of Mars and I's conversations in the grey column and read me what it says."

"It says…'done with Bryn's fitting. Getting ice cream and walking the beach with Savannah. Where are you now?'" Loki read out loud.

"Do you see a white bar at the bottom of the grey column?"

"The bar with a symbol and the word 'send' beside it?"

"Exactly. Tap the white bar with your finger and inside it a blinking blue line will appear. That's called a cursor. Along with the cursor will appear a group of squares with letters on them. That's called a keyboard. Not a true keyboard, mind you, just another format made specifically for that phone." _Damn. Adam probably doesn't even know how to type._

"I see both of what you've described."

"Now, use your fingers to tap the lettered squares on the keyboard and type out my reply."

"What do you wish to say?"

"First sentence, start with 'We're on,' then the letters' H, W, Y, one word, then the numbers one, zero, one, period."

"Like that?" Loki asked, placing the phone near Alvis who gave it a quick glance.

"Good," Alvis smiled. _Chap catches on fast._ "Next sentence, type 'on our way.'" He waited till the clicking noises stopped and glanced again to check. "Now, tap the 'send' button." Grinning to himself, he knew how Mars hated his short answers compared to the lyrically long notes that were sent to him.

"Just like that...and Mars will be able to read the message we sent him?" Loki said.

"Almost instantaneously," Alvis grinned when he saw the look of fascination on his companion's face.

"There are three dots in a grey bubble below the message we just sent," Loki reported.

"That symbol means Mars has finished reading our message and is currently typing out his reply. Depending on how much he has to say, we should be reading it almost at the instant he'll send it."

Loki knew the definition of a telephone and how it was used by modern humans to talk to one another over vast distances. In Asgard, the most efficient methods of communication were either by magic (for the gifted ones) or through the common and preferred way: by bird. Birds of every color and plumage flourished in Asgard, with many halls having at least a dozen or so of the feathered creatures strutting about, most of them reliable enough to use as messengers. Looking down at the piece of human technology in his hands, the need to gain access to more information for personal research and study became increasingly more urgent.

"Alvis...I need a favor," Loki said as Werner glanced at him curiously. "I require a computer."

* * *

><p>"I think we broke the sound barrier back there!"<p>

Capt. Steve Rogers grinned widely as he marveled at the sheer acceleration power of the borrowed Bugatti Veyron 16.4 Grand Sport roadster he was driving. True to its owner, the car's custom exterior had brushed, gold-plated panels and gold-flecked bright red paint. Beside him, Darcy Lewis cheered gleefully in the passenger's seat, her braided hair getting fuzzier from wind speed.

"You starting to like the twenty-first century?" Darcy yelled above the roar of the roadster's engine and the howling air.

"It's growing on me," Rogers replied with a smile. Having a multibillionaire introducing him to the year 2011 from living in the 1940s definitely had its perks. He had no idea that a car with a fully automatic gearbox could go so ridiculously fast. "If we skip town any faster, we're bound to be copped."

"It's not like Tony can't afford the ticket," Darcy laughed, amused by Rogers's 40s slang and predictably feeling the roadster decelerate. It was great to see Steve having some fun but he wasn't a hardcore bad boy. The guy was a genuine 'goody two-shoes' and Stark mercilessly teased him for it.

"In point five miles, turn right on Ocean Avenue," the car's navigation system reminded them in a pleasant female voice.

"I can get used to that," Rogers said, knowing the difference between the purely automated programmed Navi and Jarvis's artificial intelligence. "It amazes me how most cars have it."

"It's gonna be a standard feature instead of an option soon, like handsfree Bluetooth. I just have an old beater and I had to mount a Garmin to the dashboard," Darcy said, gliding her fingers along the Veyron's plush leather interior. "Damn, I feel like pinching myself. This car's awesome!"

"So, what's Carmel-by-the-Sea like?" Rogers asked, curious.

"Beautiful place. Kind of a haven for artists, a few movie stars, dog owners and the filthy rich that live on Seventeen Mile Drive," Darcy replied, hearing a chime from her phone. "Hang on a minute." She took a moment to read the text message. "It's from Jane. She and Tony are hanging out at the Carmel Plaza. Tony says he's got a reserved underground parking spot off Mission Street."

Sure enough, as the flashy gold and red Bugatti Veyron roadster turned onto Mission Street from Ocean Avenue at the Carmel Plaza, Jane and Stark waved to them from the sidewalk beside the entrance to the underground parking garage.

"I'm half-expecting that car to transform into a larger than life Iron Man Destructo-Bot," Jane laughed as she watched the Veyron disappear down the ramp. Stark chuckled beside her.

"Wanna help me build one?" he grinned.

"Don't you have a major project pending? A new Iron Man suit? The 'Mark Six' you call it?" Jane stated.

"You pay attention," Stark said with brows raised. "Gotta watch what I say around you from now on."

"Is it also true that you're planning to power the new Stark Tower you're building in New York with a new and improved version of an arc reactor?" Jane said in a tone mimicking a reporter's voice.

"Yes, Miss Foster, it's true," Stark answered, playing along and spoke like he was being formally interviewed. "I'd rather not burden the local power grid that benefits the good taxpayers of New York. Unfortunately, my personal energy requirements are significantly higher than that of the city's average consumption."

"Really?" Jane asked, her role of playing reporter gone instantly. "You need that _much_?"

Before Stark could reply, Darcy and Capt. Rogers walked toward them.

"Here, I'll trade ya," Stark said, throwing Steve the carbon fiber key fob for his volcanic orange McLaren MP4-12C. "It's not as peppy as the Veyron but drives like a dream."

"I'm sure this boiler will be just as crazy as the last one," Rogers said, passing over the Bugatti's 'switchblade' key fob then noted the odd looks he received. "I meant to say 'car.'"

"Hey, I wouldn't change a thing," Stark teased, thoroughly amused by Rogers's slips of slang from his era. "You'll gradually pick up how we talk these days. For now, it's best you just say whatever comes to mind."

"Where to?" Darcy piped in, changing the subject and seeing a flash of relief from Rogers.

"I've got a few errands to do for Pepper first," Stark said, taking his lightweight, ultra-thin, semitransparent phone and scrolling to a small list. "Five things." Looking around, he pointed in the general direction of a store he needed. "That way, I think."

Stark's group shuffled passed a computer store just as Loki and his companions exited the establishment carrying their purchases, walking in the opposite direction.

"Adam, nobody reads manuals anymore," Bryn laughed.

"I'm curious, nonetheless," Loki said, eager to play with the new laptop that was carefully packaged in a white paper bag dangling from his right hand.

"Oh, we should hurry. I don't want to keep Sabine waiting," Mars said excitedly, wondering what his husband had her track down for them. Sabine Bellamy was a former curator for several museums in Europe, highly educated, well-traveled and raised in Switzerland. Over five years ago, she decided to retire in the little town of Carmel where she established 'The Royal Armoire,' a very successful local antique shop that specialized in rare furniture and jewelry. They were some of her best customers with many of her pieces on prominent display at the club and in their home.

Located somewhere in the middle of the Plaza was The Royal Armoire, its proprietor busy with several overseas customers as she spoke to them in flawless French. Waving to her, Mars and Alvi browsed the shop, Loki and Bryn alongside them.

Strolling the shop, Loki glanced dispassionately at the ornate furniture around him - Bryn stopping to examine a set of silver brushes - when a particular table caught his attention. It was a small, oval-shaped table with dark, polished wood accented by mother-of-pearl, gold and ivory filigree along its pointed legs, the same decoration outlining the edges of its flat surface. Crouching down, he ran his fingers along the smooth finish as he recalled a precious memory from his past, of a certain misadventure he had long ago trying to rescue Sigyn from the clutches of flamboyantly dressed humans. He'd turned himself into a yellow songbird and was imprisoned in a golden cage that had been placed on the very same table.

"Unfortunately, that piece isn't for sale," Sabine spoke with a cultured European accent as she stood nearby.

Rising to his feet swiftly, Loki regarded the woman who'd successfully encroached on him in a distracted state. In his vulnerable mortal form, another mistake like that would cost him dearly.

"I'm sorry if I startled you. I'm Sabine Bellamy, shop's owner." Brushing away a stray lock of her stylishly short, silver hair, she extended her hand and it was her turn to be surprised when the man kissed it instead. "My goodness, to what do I owe such flattery?"

"No flattery. I simply prefer to impart women the proper greeting," Loki sleekly spoke with a smile. _A courtesy the humans seem to have forgotten_.

"I see you've met our Adam," Alvi said with a chuckle as he and Mars embraced her warmly. "You've met Bryn." They shook hands. "Sabine, good to see you, and my darling, you look as ravishing as ever."

"Aging well is about the only thing a woman of my advanced years can hope for these days, Alvi," Sabine laughed, her dark-blue eyes bright with glee. Time _had_ been kind to her and she thanked her lucky stars for it, the daring red of her lips complimenting the elegantly embroidered indigo suit she wore which accented the full curves of her body. For a woman of sixty-three, she was an extraordinary revelation to everyone who met her.

"If I may ask, Sabine, why is this table in your shop if you have no intention of selling it?" Loki stated curiously.

"I couldn't decide where to put it so I use it mainly as my shop's conversation piece. It's a unique table from the late sixteen-hundreds that I found at an auction in France," Sabine explained. "When I did some research, I discovered that it belonged to Louise de La Vallière, King Louis the Fourteenth's mistress. She had it personally commissioned and worked closely with the craftsmen who made it which is why it deviates from the usual designs of that era." She bent down and ran her hands along its flat surface. "Much of the furniture that was sold at that auction was 'As Is.' It's virtually unnoticeable now that I've had it restored, but there were horrible, deep scratches on this table when I bought it. As if something heavy was dragged across it. I can only guess that it must've been a clock, a vase, or - "

"A large, gilded birdcage," Loki mentioned softly, gazing sadly at the table, startling Sabine and the others.

"Perhaps," Sabine said, standing rigid and staring fixedly at the strangely alluring dark-haired man.

"We don't wish to take too much of your time, dear," Mars interrupted, breaking the slight moment of tension. There was an odd sense of conviction to Adam's words that sent shivers up his spine. "What's Alvi got you hiding in the back there?"

"Follow me and find out," Sabine said with a wink.

When Bryn noticed that Adam remained where he was, she stayed with him.

"You okay?" she asked gently, puzzled by Adam's fascination with the antique table.

_Accumulate enough memories and they tend to haunt you at the most inappropriate moments_, Loki muttered mentally. "You were looking closely at a set of silver brushes earlier?"

"Oh...yeah, they're over here," Bryn said, pointing to the objects and respecting Adam's wish of no further comment.

As the pair reached the expensively priced vintage grooming set, a voluptuous woman with long, wavy red hair casually walked past them toward the shop's display of antique music boxes. She wore bright-red high heels, skinny black jeans and a white, semi-sheer blouse with a wide neckline over a pale-blue rhinestone-studded tank top. Some of the men around her tried ogling without their wives noticing. Smiling to herself, she was about to examine an intricately carved ivory carousel when she felt her phone buzzing. Sighing softly, she retrieved it from her back pocket, her brows wrinkling slightly when she saw the unlisted number.

"Who is this?" she answered warningly; her face shifting to surprise when she heard the jovial tone of her mysterious caller. "Hey, stranger. I'm not even gonna guess how you got this number. Suuure you did. So? What've you been up to? Yeah? When?" There was a pause. "Here? Now?" She lowered her voice. "That's a bit too public, don't you think? What happened to staying below the radar? Riiight. Lame excuse if I ever heard one. You're too reckless for your own good, you know that?" She bit her lip. "I can't, I'm working right now. Yeah, still babysitting the jackass. Although lately, he has been more manageable since he invited that pretty little nerd girl over to his home." She grinned. "I'll check my schedule. Maybe we could meet after you're done playing Robin Hood?" She wrinkled her nose in disagreement. "Hilarious. Listen, I've got another call coming in, talk to you later, okay? You too." She switched to her other call. "Natalie here." She rolled her eyes. "I recall Pepper saying that she wanted a black one." She glanced at her watch. "I'm doing errands of my own right now but I can join you in time for dinner. Yes, Tony, I'm sure we'll all have a wonderful time." She wanted to gag. "See you all then." She couldn't hang up fast enough.

Irritated, she turned around swiftly to stomp out of the shop when she carelessly bumped into someone.

"Shit, I'm so sorry - " she began to apologize, then froze.

Natasha Romanoff choked on a breath and her heart thudded nervously in her chest when she was suddenly confronted by a face from her past, a face she believed she'd _never_ see again, from a past that she'd labored _very_ hard to erase.

"...Natalia?" Marius Casen whispered in shock. Her appearance had changed greatly over the years but he knew without a doubt who the woman was and where he'd met her. Judging by her expression and body language, it was obvious that she had no intention of being recognized. "I-I'm sorry, I thought you were - "

"...Roderick…" The name escaped her lips before she could stop it, the distant memory of how they'd met, surging forward. Barely into their teens, they'd met in London by chance, a twist of fate crashing them together, the event becoming a cherished memory for both of them. Ashen faced and shaken, she moved forward and embraced the young man she knew then, burying her face in his chest.

Woodenly returning her embrace, Mars's face was sad but severe when he felt her trembling. "I've changed my name," he whispered softly. "I go by Marius Casen now. Mars for short."

"Darling?" Alvi called out, stunned to find his spouse hugging an attractive-looking woman.

Breaking their embrace, Mars turned to Alvis who stood next to him.

"I'd like to present my _husband_, Alvis Werner," Mars spoke unsteadily, loudly clearing his throat.

"Natalie Rushman," she said hurriedly, shaking Alvi's hand vigorously, a practiced smile plastered to her face that expertly masked her reaction to Mars's news of his current sexual orientation. "I'm glad to meet you."

"Same to you," Alvi reacted hesitantly, looking quizzically at his spouse.

"I met...Natalie, once upon a time, when I was backpacking across Europe," Mars replied, being deliberately vague, a hint of relief in Natalia's eyes.

"A blast from the past, is it?" Alvi said cheerfully, trying to ease the awkward tension. He knew immediately that something was off - Mars was a terrible liar - and he chose to be patient, hoping that whatever it was concerning the woman, sorted itself out.

"Hey, guys...oh, hi there," Bryn corrected herself, her gaze bouncing between Mars, Alvi and a red-haired woman...with her arm around Mars's waist. "Hi, I'm Bryn."

"Natalie," Romanoff greeted the brunette politely with a nod. Her eyes then snapped to a tall, handsome, fair-skinned man with tousled, wavy black hair who soon joined them.

"Adam," Loki introduced himself quickly before Alvi could speak and extended his hand, the woman's solid grip oddly reminding him of _Sif_. Whoever she was, the red-haired woman was more than she appeared.

"Well, I'm sure you'd both like to catch up. I know! We're all having dinner at a local restaurant tonight, Natalie, would you like to join us?" Alvi suggested, curious about Mars's relationship to the woman.

"I'd really love to but I've already got a prior engagement," the redhead explained. "Here, Mars, take my number." She scrolled to her phone's contact list and they traded numbers. "Do you live around here?" He shook his head.

"Downtown San Francisco," Mars supplied quietly. "In a building on Market Street."

"In fact, we all live together," Alvi added with a smile. Now, he _knew_ something was up. Mars was normally a flurry of words around people. It was bewildering to hear his spouse uttering short, clipped sentences.

"Wow," the redhead remarked, looking at the group. She noted Adam's piercing green eyes regarding her carefully. "Mars, we really do have a _lot_ of catching up to do."

"Yes, we do, don't we?" Mars said reservedly.

"I'm sorry I kept you both waiting...Natalie!" Sabine exclaimed excitedly, the two women embracing fondly. "You all know each other?"

"I know them through Mars," the redhead explained with a shrug, glancing at him.

"Back for more, are you?" Sabine ribbed as Rushman laughed. "I consider Mars and Alvi here some of my best customers, but _you_...you never fail to give me a challenge." When Mars looked at her curiously, she added, "Natalie is a dedicated collector of rare musical boxes. The rarer the better. I've exhausted my list of contacts trying to satisfy her."

"Oh, stop," the redhead chided. "You and I both know you live for the chase."

"That I do," Sabine replied with a sly smile.

"What's that?" Rushman asked, looking at a medium-sized velvet box in Sabine's hands.

"This," Sabine said, holding out the box, "is for you," presenting it to Mars.

Opening the blue velvet box slowly, Mars gasped when he saw what was inside it: an unpolished golden bracelet woven to depict a lounging Aphrodite, her long flowing hair billowing around her, the band an inch thick in width.

"I always thought the ancient Greek artisans knew their way around gold," Alvi said proudly. "Just for you, love."

Moved speechless, Mars placed the delicately crafted gold bracelet around his wrist, embraced his husband tightly and they shared a loving kiss.

"Which museum in Europe did you ransack to find this?" Mars joked, moisture filling his eyes, slightly dizzy from the emotional roller-coaster he currently rode.

"That one's from my private collection," Sabine replied, making Mars gape. "Cherish each other, will you? You two are adorable together." She leaned over to hug the same-sex couple, Mars whispering a heartfelt 'thank you' in her ear.

"Well, I'd best get going," the redhead said. "Mars, I'll be in town again in a couple of weeks after I finish up some business in New York. We'll get together for a brunch, okay?" When he nodded solemnly, she hugged him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Oh, before I forget." She handed Sabine a tiny, tightly rolled pieced of parchment paper. Your next assignment." She then smiled brightly. "It was nice meeting you all."

As the redhead departed, Alvi and Loki stared after her, both for entirely different reasons.

"Always a pleasure seeing you both," Sabine said, addressing Mars and Alvi. "Never a dull moment with you two around."

"Now that, I can almost guarantee," Alvi chuckled, grasping her hand. "Thank you."

"An interesting symbol," Loki remarked, staring at an oversimplified drawing of a small, red 'hourglass' on the inside of Sabine's left wrist - the image tattooed directly on her pulse-point - that she kept hidden under her gold and ruby bracelet.

Rubbing it with her thumb, she concealed it under her jewelry and smiled with a shrug.

"A remnant of my wilder, _younger_ days, Adam," Sabine replied with a wink. "If you'll now excuse me, I have a call to make."

"I think she was flirting with you," Bryn teased, looking at Adam.

"She's a rather compelling woman," Loki said with a small smile. _As anyone with dark secrets often seem_.

"Come on, there's the grand opening of a new clothing store just around the corner," Mars prodded, trying to return to his usual lively self and looping an arm around Alvi's as he lead him away, Bryn and Adam close behind them.

From the open doorway of her office, the statuesque Sabine watched as Alvis Werner's motley group of companions filed out of the shop. Humming an obsolete Russian folksong, she sat on the edge of her antique desk, unrolling the little paper parchment Natalie Rushman had given her and read a coded pictograph message written in geometric symbols.

"A woman's work is never done," Sabine said out loud with a soft sigh, twisting slightly and retrieving a bottle of nail polish from her desk drawer. The bottle had a logo similar to the tattoo on her left wrist, etched into the glass. Tossing the little paper parchment in a polished metal ashtray on her desk, she let three or four drops of the bottle's clear liquid fall on the parchment, dissolving all trace of the message to a lump of ash.

* * *

><p>"Hmm, I sense a trend here," Jane Foster mused out loud as she passed Tony Stark who considerately held open the main door of Andre's Bouchee for her. "Do you have a thing for deceptively quaint looking restaurants?"<p>

"Maybe it's just my way of dodging the paparazzi?" Stark smiled. "You look lovely by the way." He resisted the urge to place his hand on Jane's smooth skin, generously displayed by her backless, pale-pink, halter-strap dress.

Inside the restaurant, Stark's group of four - dressed in their newly purchased clothing from the local Carmel Plaza - were led to a private room where a table was prepared for them, a large silver platter of hors d'oeuvres laid out between bouquets of flowers. Pepper Potts and Natalie Rushman were already present, both wearing elegant cocktail dresses for the evening.

"Captain Rogers," Natasha greeted pleasantly as he shook her hand stiffly.

Stark had warned Steve Rogers that Agent Romanoff had been assigned to him _months before_ they'd 'fished his frozen ass' from the sea, functioning under the name of Natalie Rushman and acting as his direct liaison to S.H.I.E.L.D., as well as an executive assistant to Pepper. He was still trying to convince Rogers of the fact that Black Widow was in their company to 'not exactly' shadow them, despite his so rudely smuggling their country's fabled super-soldier right out from under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s nose. However, both he and Rogers agreed that Rushman, given her background, was _not_ to be trusted.

"Miss Potts," Rogers smiled shyly when he took her hand, amazed by the attractive blonde's role as right hand to the CEO of Stark Industries. "Tony's told me a lot about you."

"Has he now?" Pepper replied. "All good things, I hope."

"His description of you barely gives you justice," Rogers stated, blushing slightly and clearing his throat as he chivalrously adjusted her chair when she sat down. He did the same for Darcy who sat next to him.

There was a snicker from Stark who found Steve's transparency endlessly hilarious.

"Oooh, I think he likes Pepper," Tony whispered in Jane's ear, her high-heeled foot tapping him under the table.

"Can you _try_ easing off Steve for a few hours?" Jane hissed back, glancing at Darcy who hid her smile.

* * *

><p>After checking into the first available room at a Travelodge on Market Street in downtown San Francisco, Clint Barton tossed his military-grade nylon cargo bag on his queen-sized bed. Parting the curtains of his second-story window, he gazed at the street below, his perceptive eyesight spotting no one out of the ordinary from the sidewalks filled with tourists from different corners of the globe. Stretching with a yawn, he emptied the pockets of his vintage Levi's, stripped off his Empire Strikes Back T-shirt, wiggling free of his socks and shoes. He'd traveled for over twelve hours on a plane from New Zealand and he craved a quick shower to refresh himself.<p>

On his way to the bathroom, a ringtone from his phone made him turn around. Picking up a 'jailbroken' Samsung Galaxy S III, he scrolled down to a text message from the friend he came to visit and fired off a reply. Smiling to himself, he hadn't seen Razzmatazz in nearly three years and he was curious to know what his former pupil was up to in his absence. Rather than heading back toward the bathroom, he leapt onto his queen-sized bed with a bounce and landed on his bare back, his eyes tracing the dull pattern on the ceiling of his room.

Turning his head to one side, he clicked on his phone's contacts and scanned the moderate list of numbers, more than half of which were merely his occupational network for equipment or ammo. His chosen line of work as a mercenary earned him more enemies than allies and those he truly called _friends_ were scarce. For their protection, he preferred to sever ties with them altogether.

Why then, had he stubbornly kept in touch with the two former soldiers who lived in this city?

Rather than repeating his automatic excuse of 'friends with benefits,' he knew that his prolonged association with them dangerously bordered on sentimental. Grinning, he knew that both Alioto, a former Navy SEAL and Werner, a decorated former British Royal Marine could more than take care of themselves in a bind - not that he'd deliberately place them in harms way. He was always careful in public, using false identities and disguises to mislead his enemies from targeting them.

Also, the two men were endlessly entertaining to him. Razzmatazz, for example, still had a severe case of 'hero worship' toward him, while...Elvira - he snickered - was always full of surprises. All kidding aside, the two men possessed qualities he highly valued, the most important being a measure of trust.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Barton rolled over to his left side, tucking an arm under his head as he stared at a particular phone number on his call list.

_Ah_...s_he's gonna kill me_, he laughed, dialing the number. As expected, the woman who answered wasn't pleased in the slightest.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," he replied with a grin, hearing the annoyance dripping from her voice. "Yes, _dear_, I'll hold." Shifting on the bed, he grabbed the pillows from underneath the neatly made duvet cover and propped them behind his back. "Where are you? Yeah? Good luck with that. Oh, come on, it's not that bad, is it? Really..." He frowned. "Shit, too many unknown factors can be problematic but you can handle it. Piece 'a cake." He slouched down into the soft pillows, his voice sounding husky. "So...uh...what're you wearing? Mmmm, that's sexy. You're always game, huh, you bad girl you. _I'm_ hopeless horny? Says the gal who jumps me in an elevator at the Burj Khalifa in Dubai." He sits up slightly, his brows crunching. "Okay, that was _not_ my fault, we were under fire! How long you gonna hold that over my head? Bring it. I can go all night long, baby. Oh-ho, you are one sadistic chic." He then laughs out loud, clutching his stomach. "God, you're hot." Licking his lips, he loosens the buttons of his jeans and wiggles on the bed to get comfortable. "How you wanna do this? Wait, hold on a sec." Leaping to his knees, he crouched over his nylon cargo bag, rummaging for his wireless headset and stuffing it into his ear. He then kicks away his luggage to the floor, flinging his jeans to a corner of the room. "Can you hear me? Yeah, good to go. You?" He chuckles. "I feel like I'm in college." He bit his lip. "You sure you can't...oh, c'mon, just a quick peek? Fine, I'll make do." His voice goes low and husky again, his eyes filled with lust. "Consider this a warm up coz the next time I see you...you won't be in any shape to walk."

* * *

><p>At the restaurant's main door, Alvis Werner and his spouse, Marius Casen, entered the establishment with their ward Bryn, her friend Savannah and their enigmatic houseguest, Adam Laoki. Dressed in attire they'd recently purchased at the grand opening of a new clothing store in the local Carmel Plaza, the group were seated immediately at a reserved table in the central dining area of Andre's Bouchee.<p>

"You wouldn't think it from the outside, but wow, this place is gorgeous," Bryn remarked, looking around her. Adam attended to her as she sat at their table wearing a strapless, cream-colored cocktail dress that made her look stunning, a ribbon necklace with a green cabochon adorning her neck.

"The food here's delicious," Savannah said as she sat beside Bryn, Alvi pushing her chair in. She wore a strapless dress with a satiny material of a deep, royal blue.

"I wonder where Andre and Annette are," Mars asked, puzzled that the restaurant's owners hadn't arrived to greet them.

"There's Annette," Alvi pointed out, waving to her as she approached their table.

Across from Bryn, Loki sat quietly as he observed his companions and the other gathered humans inside the restaurant, glancing at a middle-aged brunette in a fuchsia pant suit who was headed in their direction. She was greeted warmly by both Alvi and Mars, cordially introduced to the rest of them, the woman leaning in to tell them news she was excited to announce.

"You're not going to believe who's here," Annette began with a wide smile.

Having excused herself to answer a call, Natasha Romanoff, the fair skin of her face flushed a dark, rosy pink, left the women's powder room and slowly meandered her way through the busy restaurant, reluctant to return to the private room reserved for Stark. As social gatherings went, her group rated high on the awkward scale as she was forced to endure Tony Stark's intolerable ego and his continuous advances on Foster, Capt. Steve Rogers's naive ideologies and adolescent flirtations toward Pepper, Jane Foster's paranoia and Darcy's schoolgirl chit-chat.

Sighing, she decided to cut through the crowded central dining area when she caught a glimpse of familiar faces. Cursing to herself, she did a hasty about-face, nearly running back the way she came.

_What're they doing here?_ Romanoff thought in annoyance, peeking around a wall just as Mars's entire group turned their heads toward their reserved room. _Shit!_ Avoiding a scenario of them mingling together would be near impossible and she was completely unprepared to face any questions that were sure to pop up about her connection to Mars. The day was shaping up to be one of the messiest of her experiences to date, if the throb at her temples was any indication. At the moment, she preferred to be pinned down in a storm of gunfire than to confront an intimate detail of her past. Inhaling deeply to calm her nerves, she carefully ambled her way back.

After Annette had left Werner's table to go help her husband entertain their more demanding guest, Alvi suggested a spontaneous visit to Stark's group.

"I...don't think that's a good idea," Mars declared to Alvi's total surprise. Normally, he welcomed a 'mixer' in any form, something the social butterfly in him simply couldn't refuse, but this time, it was different. He had _no_ desire to share a very personal moment of his past in such a public setting. "Please, dear? Some other time?"

Werner nodded, seeing Mars's discomfort, his hand gripping his spouse's arm reassuringly.

"Alvi? Is that you?" a man's familiar voice called out behind them.

Whipping their heads around, Werner and Casen confirmed the identity of the man's voice, and under the circumstances, Mars's was the least thrilled to see him.

Rising to his feet, Alvis vigorously shook hands with Tony Stark, the man clapping him on the back.

"I think Mars and Bryn over there are stalking me," Stark joked with a grin. "Didn't I just meet you two at Gratian's place? With the exception of you...whoever you are." He stared directly at a tall, dark-haired man who sat beside Bryn.

"Adam," Loki stood up, moving to give Stark a strong handshake.

"Whoa, that's quite a grip you got there," Tony remarked, forced to look up, already developing a childish dislike of the man who towered over him. "Anyway, I'm here with a gang of my own and we have this big room all to ourselves, so I figure, the more the merrier." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly. "Would you and your group like to join me?"

"There you are," Pepper declared with a slight glare. "We were wondering where you disappeared to." She glanced at the people that Tony was talking to. "Have we met?"

"Mostly over the phone," Werner said with a smile. "I'm Alvi. My spouse, Mars and I own the Bourgeoisie."

"_You're_ Alvi?" Pepper said excitedly, shaking his hand, recalling the sound of his voice. "It's so good to finally meet you."

"Likewise," Alvi replied with a smile. He fondly remembered how cordial and efficient Ms. Pott's was during the many nights they spoke to each other dealing with the matter of keeping Stark's 'indiscretions' at the club away from the press.

"Well, it's settled then, you're all having dinner with us," Stark insisted to Pepper's surprise as Alvis shrugged in helpless consent. Beside him, Mars sighed softly, Bryn and Savannah giggled to each other while Adam looked on with calm neutrality.

Soon, Annette and Andre, the restaurant's owners, made the preparations and adjustments to accommodate Stark's new dinner guests. Werner's group was then led to the establishment's private room, another large table was added and decorated to match. Unaware of the discomfort from some of his guests, Stark carried on, cheerfully introducing everyone gathered in the room like an officiate at a family reunion.

"Adam," Loki said as he greeted Steve Rogers and felt the great strength of the man's grip. _This is no ordinary man_. He then kissed Pepper Potts's hand, noting Stark's and Roger's reactions with amusement. _They both desire this woman?_ Moving on to Darcy Lewis, she couldn't hide her blush. _Bashful and rather charming_. Beside her, the buxom Natalie Rushman smiled pleasantly. "Hello, again. We've met earlier at The Royal Armoire." His eyes then glanced at a woman of petite stature who stepped forward.

"Jane Foster," she said, shyly holding out her hand.

The former Asgardian nearly froze when he bent to kiss her hand and he lingered longer than Stark would've liked as he wrestled valiantly with the tempest of emotions raging inside him.

"A pleasure to meet you," Loki said evenly, his green eyes blazing. Staring steadily at the mortal female's pretty features, memories of the day he'd sent the Destroyer to the Realm of Midgard to find Thor erupted to the surface. He'd witnessed everything that happened through his connection to the Destroyer that day, including the faces of everyone involved, mortal or immortal...and Jane Foster's image was the most prominent in his mind.

_Jane._ _This human female...this is Thor's woman!_

* * *

><p>In a small practice area in the Asgardian hall of Valhalla, Thor released a loud battle cry as he charged furiously with his sword at Hildr, one of three mighty Valkyrie Generals that commanded the All-Father's army of the Dead, the Einherjar. Her long, braided platinum-blonde hair flowed with her every strike, the warrior-maiden dancing effortlessly out of Thor's reach.<p>

"You fight in anger, Odinson," Hildr admonished as she spun away from Thor's swings. "Perhaps it is not battle-prowess you crave but something else entirely?"

"I'm here to fight you, Hildr, not talk," Thor replied angrily, thrusting his blade forward as she parried, the clashing of their steel making bright bluish sparks. Not wanting to admit that Hildr was right, he fought more fiercely, trying to ignore the recent memory of his magical journey with Sigyn, who'd begged him to relive his last moments with Loki.

They had been dueling all morning and Thor's friends who were spectating, The Warriors Three and Lady Sif, had long since left them to attend to their duties elsewhere. Hildr showed no signs of fatigue whereas Thor seemed emotionally exhausted and it began to affect his performance. The Valkyrie General allowed their sparring to continue for a few more hours until the sun had almost dipped into the horizon and she decided that it was time for them to stop.

"I am honored, Master Thor, to be chosen for swordplay," Hildr said with a smile, knowing that Odin's eldest usually pitted himself against his friends or the Valkyrie General, Skogul, who's fighting style more suitably matched his. It was always Loki who brawled with her, making full use of her knowledge of battle-galdr (battle-spells) and who enjoyed constantly trying to outwit her every attack or defense. "Warring with me till you collapse will not bring him back."

At those words, Thor stopped mid-swing, his face flushed with pent up remorse and frustration, the muscles of his arms strained with tension, his fists turning white on the handle of his sword. He stayed this way for a long moment before quietly going limp, his sword falling to the ground and he looked at the abandoned blade with saddened features.

"Shall we share a skin of fine mead in my private chamber?" Hildr offered, moving to stand beside Thor and bending down to retrieve the discarded steel.

"If...it is no trouble," Thor replied softly, surprised by her invitation.

Smiling warmly, Hildr led Odin's eldest to her personal chamber in the hall of Valhalla located in a section strictly designated for the Valkyries.

Sitting on a large pelt of white bear fur, Thor gazed at his cozy surroundings, the chamber's adornments and furnishings uniquely reflecting the taste of its owner. He'd been to Skogul's chamber many times but had never thought to try Hildr's. Was it because of the frequency Loki had spent in her company?

"You may stay as long as you wish," Hildr stated, returning to her guest in a manner unseen outside her chamber.

Having removed her shining silver armor, her unbraided platinum-blonde hair fanned behind her as she walked, the long strands draping to her waist and loosely framing the pale skin of her squarish face; a feathery halo that further accentuated the wolfish, glacial blue of her eyes. She wore only a shimmering, off-the-shoulder silken shift that barely covered her breasts, the silver cord knotted at her waist kept the loose material from completely slipping off her body as the enticing semi-translucent fabric did little to veil her nudity underneath.

Thor nearly gasped, moved by Hildr's unexpected beauty. Of the three Valkyrie General's, she was the most mysterious, known for repeatedly refusing the intimate advances of both men and women. Even Fandral, whose famed charms were known by women from Asgard to Ljossalfheim, was unable to slip his foot past her door. Therefore, it came as an absolute shock - and the Nine Realms were abuzz with the news for months after - that _Loki_ had been allowed an unreachable pleasure that others would never have.

"Did...Loki often share your bed?" Thor asked softly, genuinely curious.

"Yes," Hildr answered simply, pouring her guest a generous cup of strong, fruit-flavored mead. She lounged on her side across from him, propped by an arm, the cloth on her right breast drifting down to just above a hint of pink. "I gave him comfort and a silent ear."

"How did he..." Thor began after he'd taken a long drink, draining his cup. It was a question that was left unanswered - though rumors still abounded - of how Loki had succeeded where countless many had failed: won the heart and bed of the aloof Valkyrie General known by reputation as the 'Ice Bear.'

"Your brother was unlike any man I had ever fought," Hildr replied, sipping the fragrant sweet mead that she often shared with Loki. "He was swift, very adaptable, possessed an advanced knowledge of battle-galdr and his cunning..." Her eyes narrowed and she smiled fondly, tipping her cup over her mouth. "Oh, was he _cunning_."

"Tell me," Thor requested, leaning back on the soft cushions of the daybed and held out his cup of behemoth ivory for a refill. He watched as Hildr quietly filled it to the brim with the rich, dark-red mead. "Tell me of my brother."

Hildr then obliged him, recounting stories of her dealings with his wily younger brother. Some made Thor laugh heartily till his stomach ached, others made him introspective as he reflected on his brother's actions, a few made him gape in disbelief, but one in particular, the story he'd originally sought after, left him speechless.

"It will be a tale that shall endure till Ragnarok if I chose to tell it," Hildr stated with a wide grin, seeing Thor's reaction. It was now late into the evening, and between the two of them, they'd consumed almost six boar-sized skins of the strong, fruit-flavored mead. "Over time, I grew accustomed to the way your brother _thrives_ on the unexpected."

"I think 'chaos' to be the proper word," Thor amended with a chuckle, his speech slurred and his cheeks a dark pink. Bare from the waste up, his boots and leather vest long since thrown to the floor, he welcomed the warm buzz of the strong mead in his belly, his mind still trying to digest what he'd heard. "Loki had patience, I'll give him that."

"Patience? No. 'Bullheadedness' is what I call it," Hildr pointed out with a laugh.

The pair sputtered with boisterous abandon as they melted helplessly together into the soft furs of the daybed. When their gaiety subsided, she turned her head...and met Thor's stormy blue eyes which were ablaze with passion. When he reached out to caress her cheek, she captured his hand.

"I may have bedded your brother," Hildr said softly, "...but you are here for a drink and nothing more." When the passion in Thor's eyes changed to remorse, she kissed each knuckle of his right hand and added, "I too miss Loki greatly."

Gathering Odin's eldest into her arms, Hildr held him tightly and he returned her embrace, Thor saying a muffled apology, his head pressed to her throat. They settled deep into the furs of the daybed, Hildr offering what comfort she could as Thor drifted off to sleep against the warmth of her skin.

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><p>to be continued<p>

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><p><strong>Correspondence<strong>:

_Gabs:_

_OHMYGOD, I LOVE THIS STORY! It's one of the best fanfics I've ever read! I just love how you write Loki, it's so genuine and close to the character portrayed in the movie. I just adore him. You're a very good writer. I honestly can't decide who I want Loki to end up with, Sigyn or Bryn. I think it'd almost be a little weird for him and Sigyn together, just because of the age difference, seeing as she's like 16 and he's like late 20's early 30's. I think he and Bryn would be good together though. She gives him a good dose of humility, which is something he desperately needs. I also love how you write Tony and Steve. They're such characters and you capture them incredibly well. I honestly can't wait for the next chapter to come out. I'm completely hooked and will be constantly checking this thing for updates!_

_Lots of love, Gabs_

Dear Gabs:

First off, I'd like to say THANK YOU for your praise, I'm truly happy and humbled that you're excited about this work of Loki fiction. :D

As for Loki ending up with Sigyn or Bryn...well, I'd be lying if I didn't vote for Bryn first. ;D After all, they're going to be spending a LOT of time together since Loki's basically grounded on Earth as a mortal human. Also, Bryn may appear 16 but she's several centuries old by our standards.

Since I've watched the Avengers movie, (twice, so far - I'm such a nerd) I can't help but love them _all_ so don't be surprised to see them pop up in my story.

I'm delighted by your enthusiasm and I hope you continue to enjoy how the tale unfolds in chapters to come.

Take care!

…

_BellonaNJ:_

_I spent the better part of 36 hrs devouring this story-very well structured and written (I graduated with honors in English Lit in college). I've spent time reading other stories, but this by far was screenplay material-seriously, I would rather Thor 2 be this story...I'll be keeping an eye out for updates. If the Marvel-verse had their own published alternate stories (as the Star Wars univierse does) this should be amongstt the novels...take care_

Dear BellonaNJ:

Awws! *grins from ear to ear* I'm _truly_ _touched_ by your words and I'm glad you've enjoyed reading my story. As far as fan-fiction goes (soon as I finish this thing) to have this story published would be an absolute honor! ^_^ I dare to dream and thank you for your vote of confidence. Now, if only I could type paragraphs as _fast_ as I can imagine them in my head, I'm totally set!

Take care!

…

_toya:_

_this is the best story ever please please please please continue it! it always makes me smile! makes my whole day better! I tripped down the stairs today it hurt but after i read your story i was so happy i almost forgot that i had just tripped down the stairs. didn't break anything so i was all good. You are the best writer ever this would make a great book! i've read it more than once already! so thank you soo much for the amazing story and i really hope that you will continue it. 3 D (hehe smily faces)_

Dear toya:

It truly makes me smile knowing that I've made _you_ happy in my own humble way. Between you and me, this story is personal therapy. LOL. Also, the character of Loki - a lovable villain who embodies that trait so wonderfully - was too irresistible to pass up and Tom Hiddleston's portrayal sealed it.

Glad you didn't hurt yourself tripping down the stairs! *whew* I've done that a few times and most of it is the fault of my silly cat! (my cat thinks it's amusing to sit on the stairs at night when I'm half awake going down to the kitchen for a glass of water)

Hope this chapter keeps you going till the next one. ;D

Take care!

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>:

An Olympic Pool must be 25 meters (82.02 feet) wide with a depth of 2.0 m (6.562 feet)(min) at all parts of the course and must be 50 m (164 feet) in length. *As of 2005 UK standards.

DIVING BOARD HEIGHTS AND DEPTHS

(*excerpt is from an article on Livestrong dot com)

You can purchase and install diving boards of different heights. As the height of the board increases, the required depth of the pool increases as well. When you hit the water with greater gravitational force, your body has the potential to travel to a greater depth upon entering the pool. FINA suggests the following minimum pool depths based on the height of the diving board:

A 1-meter diving board should have an 11.5-foot pool depth.

A 3-meter diving board should have a 12.5-foot pool depth.

A 1-meter diving platform should have an 11-foot pool depth.

A 3-meter diving platform should have a 12-foot pool depth.

A 5-meter diving platform should have a 12.5-foot pool depth.

A 7.5-meter diving platform should have a 15-foot pool depth.

A 10-meter diving platform should have a 16.5-foot pool depth.

Recently watched the Avengers movie (kicked ass! whoo-hoo) and I've added little tidbits to tie-in some stuff, no direct spoilers. My first plan was to somehow streamline my story to match the events that unfolded in the movie. May or may not happen. Depends on how this tale develops and where the characters take me. I mean, to be honest, I'm sure many of you agree that this is heading into AU territory already, right? I've got 'Loki Redemption' on the brain, but Loki's never one to be pegged into any sort of stereotype.

Can anybody guess who the crystal dagger belongs to? *winks mischievously*

Black Widow and Hawkeye moments = priceless. (my new fave couple - coz they're Team Insane LOL)

Once a spy, always a spy it seems...

Anyone still remember Loki's little misadventure with Sigyn? (refer to chapter 3)

Keep in mind, Mars had changed his name at 18 to start a new life to try and escape his traumatic past.

It's a pre-Avengers gathering. ROFL. The only one missing is Dr. Banner.

I think Darcy's crush on Jarvis is super-cute!

Capt. America and Pepper? Why not? I think they'll be great together. =)

Poor Thor, all depressed again. Although, he's gotta get his priorities straight if he wants to see Jane. Stark's already gained ground on him in the dating department.

Dun, dun, dun! Loki's found Jane! Will he do something impulsively stupid out of anger and frustration?

Also, I always like hearing from my readers, so feel free to leave a note. ^_^

My heartfelt thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Liani Risate, Monkey-Paws, Gabs, BellonaNJ, randomwriter90, toya, ActiveIngredient, ericalove, Martianlightsaber!

Let Chaos Reign!


	8. Period of Adjustment, Part 2

*Avengers Fan-fiction by Kemurikat*

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><p><strong>Such Fragile Creatures: Act 08 - Period of Adjustment, Part 2<strong>

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><p><em>Travel by Bifrost was nearly instantaneous as Thor, his brother Loki, The Warriors Three and Lady Sif, all with full battle armaments, sped past the span of space from Asgard into the realm of the Jotnar. The instant their feet touched the northernmost region of Jotunheim's frozen surface, the oppressive weight of an unseen force enveloped them as they each pivoted in place, staring with great uncertainty at the vast, rime-incrusted wasteland and at each other.<em>

"_We shouldn't be here," Hogun warned._

_Though he had secretly visited Jotunheim's northern hemisphere before, Loki agreed with Hogun. His heart thudded nervously in his chest, wondering if the Frost King would betray him in front of the others. He was, after all, a traitor in every sense of the word. Not only had he disregarded the Treaty that prohibited any Asgardian from crossing into Jotunheim's northern kingdom, he also brokered a deal with Laufey, _King of _the Frost Giants, sharing his knowledge of a secret path into Asgard - unseen by its Gatekeeper - that led straight to the All-Father's heavily guarded Vault. In return, he only asked that however many frost-etins chose to infiltrate Asgard, would do so on the day of Thor's Coronation._

"_Let's move," Thor said impatiently, ignoring his companions' wary stares and the shakes of their heads._

_Jotunheim's Frost Giant kingdom was as eerie and desolate as the stories described, their small war-party venturing slowly and cautiously along the frigid terrain toward the partially standing throne hall within King Laufey's eroding citadel. Much of the barren grayish-blue surface was battle-torn, the cracked and craggy landscape a constant reminder of the magnitude of the destruction the war with Asgard had wrought. They walked a main path that threaded through the frost-etins' former stronghold with its once tall, proud structures now crumbling in ruin._

_The howling, icy wind seeped through their protective cloaks and Fandral - the most outspoken of their group against Thor's foolishness - tugged at his thick, silver-fox cloak, securing it tightly around his shoulders._

"_Where are they?" Sif spoke, breaking the silence. She'd been carefully scanning their surroundings for any sign of movement and didn't like how well the frost-etins remained concealed from them._

"_Hiding. As cowards always do," Thor replied, his voice filled with contempt._

_The main path ended in a rough, circular cul-de-sac filled with torn pillars that in the distant past appeared to have served as the throne hall's receiving area for 'guests' to the kingdom._

"_You've come a long way to die, Asgardians," King Laufey's deep, haunting voice spoke slowly as it echoed throughout the once great throne hall._

"_I am Thor Odinson," the All-Father's firstborn declared proudly._

"_We know who you are," King Laufey replied, sounding unconcerned._

"_How did your people get into Asgard?" Thor demanded loudly, not wasting any time and angered by King Laufey's indifference to their presence._

_In the shadows, seated upon his high throne, the Frost King observed them patiently and quietly with his unfathomable red gaze, Loki marveling at the giant's stillness in the face of impeding conflict._

_There was a tense pause as King Laufey softly snickered, glancing at their war-party and at each of their faces before settling on the irate features of the All-Father's firstborn._

"_The House of Odin is full of traitors," the Frost King answered with a knowing smile as Loki held his breath._

"_Do not dishonor my Father's name with your lies!" Thor shouted back defensively, furious that King Laufey had the blatant audacity to speak such words in his presence._

_Instantly, the calm indifference on King Laufey's face changed to a furious scowl as he stood to his full height above them._

"_Your father is a murderer and a thief!" the Frost King argued back, his red gaze settling pointedly on Loki. _Yes, above all, a wretched thief.

_As he stared back, matching King Laufey's glare, Loki swallowed hard reflexively. There was a strange underlying sorrow in the Frost King's red eyes that persisted with his every visit. Why? He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he barely heard the rest of the Frost King's loudly spoken words._

"_...have you come here? To make peace?" King Laufey spat back, staring angrily at Odin's firstborn. "You long for battle, you crave it."_

_Thor's fury boiled inside him at the Frost King's sneering face._

"_You're nothing but a boy, trying to prove himself a man."_

_At these words, several dozen, towering, frost-etin warriors emerged from their camouflaged posts and slowly surrounded their war-party. Volstagg spun around quickly, brandishing his battle-axe as Fandral beside him placed a steady hand on the hilt of his sword. Sif was on high alert, noting the position of every frost-etin within her field of vision._

"_This 'boy' has grown tired of your mockery," Thor continued as the frost-etins around them began to manifest their individual weapons. Some formed clubs of ice on their hands with menacing spikes while others wielded jagged, icy blades._

Damn it, Thor_, Loki mentally screamed at him, stubbornly believing that his brother wasn't stupid enough to start a full-scale war with Jotunheim._

_He was wrong. This had gone too far!_

"_Thor...stop...and think," Loki implored carefully. Knowing he was ruthlessly responsible for the entire mess they were in, he seized a final chance to persuade his brother to abandon the catastrophic course on which they were headed. "Look around you...we're outnumbered."_

"_Know your place, Brother," Thor hissed, jerking his arm away from Loki's grasp. _

_Sighing inwardly, Loki realized that his brother was passed all reason._

_The frost-etins had suffered greatly, having lost much of their clan-mates and their kingdom to the great battle against Odin. Not the least of which was the theft of a holy relic that now sat on prominent display in Asgard's weapons Vault under constant heavy guard._

"_You know not what your actions will unleash," King Laufey advised, not entirely in favor of another full-scale war with Asgard. "I do."_

_There it was again. The mournful red gaze of the Frost King that was focused on him. Loki stared back warily, debating whether he should question King Laufey about it...that is...if their little war-party managed to survive their untimely visit._

"_Go now, while I still allow it."_

_They were words that Loki was more than glad to hear. The day would end without unnecessary bloodshed, their war-party returning home unharmed, and Thor would then have to face the furious judgement of the All-Father. All he ever wanted was for Odin to realize that his brother wasn't fit to be the ruler of Asgard. That Odin's doting and misplaced favoritism produced a vain, arrogant and selfish son. As a result, perhaps Odin's careful attention would turn in his direction from now on._

_A bulky-looking frost giant sentry strode forward in protest, showing his displeasure of King Laufey's decision that permitted the Asgardians to leave._

"_We will accept...your most gracious offer," Loki said steadily and smoothy, secretly bursting with gratitude and immense relief. He then felt Thor's eyes boring sharply through his skull. He'd surely have to face his brother's wrath first before their father arrived, if the deliberate jab of Thor's elbow to his chest was any indication. "Come on, Brother," he insisted as he turned away, hearing the low, dissatisfied grunt of the frost-etin sentry. He hoped that their departure would occur without incident._

"_Run back home, little princess," the sentry taunted out loud._

"_Damn," Loki exclaimed with finality. His wish for a peaceful outcome was now lost. They'd have to fight their way home. He only hoped that his message had reached the All-Father and aid would come for them in time. _

_He heard Fandral's soft sigh of resignation._

This is not how I envisioned it_, Loki mentally scolded himself in frustration. _Damn it all! Starting a war with Jotunheim was never my intention!

_The loud bash of Thor's hammer to the sentry's jaw sent the frost-etin flying off into the distance, the giant's body ramming headfirst into a wall._

"_Next?" was Thor's arrogant retort as he slammed his hammer into a second opponent nearby. Then a third...and a fourth._

_Their little war-party fought valiantly, each of them holding their own against the onslaught of relentless frost giants. Loki kept a practiced eye on each of his comrades in case any of them needed assistance. He watched as Hogun released the deadly, poisoned spikes of his club and Sif had merged her twin swords to form her double-bladed lance. It wasn't long before Fandral's exuberant laughter filled the area as he parried gleefully with their enemies and Volstagg's mighty battle axe cleaved limbs off of bodies._

_Using throwing knives infused with greenish bolts of lethal magical energy, Loki did his best to dissolve and disarm the frost-etin army's weaponry from a distance, rendering their attackers helpless or off-balance. He wasn't fond of hand-to-hand conflicts and left the slashing, grappling and thumping to Thor, Sif and The Warriors Three._

_From his high vantage point, King Laufey witnessed in dismay the growing number of slain frost giants. They had thrived in numbers over the peaceful centuries since the Treaty, and the impending war may diminish them again, a thought that made the current skirmish harder to bear._

"_At least make it a challenge for me," Thor provoked loudly._

By the Nine Waves, Thor, haven't you done enough?_ Loki thought angrily._

_The Frost King turned his head sharply in the direction of an oncoming rush of frost-etin warriors in response to Thor's scorn, many of whom sought revenge for slain kin during the Great War. Some of the more gifted ones also ran forward, one warrior summoning an ice wave that knocked the Asgardian called Hogun violently off his feet._

_A massive, muscled frost-etin released a deep, thundering battle cry, the warrior stomping determinedly toward Thor who answered the challenge with a roar of his own._

_From the periphery of his vision, Loki saw a streak of red as it was flung back, landing near Sif's feet. Thor had found a worthy opponent._

"_That's more like it," Loki heard his brother say approvingly._

_Mjollnir sang as Thor heaved it toward the mountainous mass, the enchanted hammer smashing easily through the frost giant's skull, its speed dramatically slowing in midair on its own before ricocheting back to the hand of its owner._

_A few feet away, Sif was having some difficulty as Hogun, who was nearest to her, came to her aid with one of his daggers._

_The most beneficial bit of magic Loki devised for use in battle was his ability to conjure mirror images of himself at will to confuse his enemies. Each mirror image functioned as an independent being - which Thor and his companions still considered 'disturbing' - thus making him a very formidable and valuable asset to any war-party._

_[Loki's doubles were most often sent out as scouts or spies to survey ahead. If the double got killed, its essence simply merged back into its host, adding whatever knowledge it gained during the period it roamed free. When Loki had first developed the spell, he was just as disturbed about their realism, and with practiced patience, taught himself to endure his doppelgängers' memories once they returned to him - especially the parts where he gets repeatedly killed - a major factor to why he (largely) doesn't fear death.]_

_Wanting to conserve his strength - since he had no idea how long or how many of the frost-etins they needed to kill for them to get home - the Trickster limited himself to one mirror image._

_An echoing bellow filled the area and Loki's head whipped around to see an enraged frost giant barreling single-mindedly toward him. Backing away, he realized too late that he had trapped himself against the edge of a cliff with no hope of escape. With nowhere to run, he stood his ground and faced his death. Head held high, he calmly leveled his eyes at his opponent till the last possible second. As the frost-etin leapt at him...the giant grasped nothing but air and fell to his death, Loki's intangible form glowing briefly with a yellowish-green haze._

_Peeking at his doppelgänger from behind a ruined pillar, Loki smiled, dissipating his double with a flick of his fingers. Feeling adventurous, he moved away from his companions to the fringes of the fray where there were far less opponents, wanting to personally extend a gracious gesture to minimize King Laufey's losses. After all, the Frost King had admirably delivered on his promise and sent eager kin to their deaths to disrupt his brother's coronation. If he could somehow seek another audience with King Laufey, there was a good chance of stopping this madness._

_Elsewhere, the battle raged on, Sif burying her double-bladed lance into a giant's chest and pivoting to deflect an icy mass of spikes, each one thudding rapidly against her shield. Behind her, Volstagg yelled out in pain, the skin on his right arm blackened by the extreme cold of a frost-etin's grasp which hurt and sizzled like a burn._

_"Don't let them touch you!" Volstagg warned his companions after knocking down his opponent with a well-placed head-butt._

_Momentarily distracted from her battle-lust, Sif quickly took stock of their war-party. Thor was in his own happy little world, hitting giant after giant with his mighty Mjollnir. Hogun was inching his way to the injured Volstagg while Fandral was grinning from ear to ear, the silvery blade of his rapier slicing through enemies as he danced around them._

_Sif gasped when she saw that someone was missing._

_Where was Loki?_

_Battling his way toward King Laufey's throne proved more difficult than he thought as Loki rushed a towering sentry, the green-glowing blade in his right hand poised to strike. Perhaps it was his insatiable, morbid curiosity that made him foolishly stab rather than throw his blade at that particular moment...his fears answered when the sentry's hand locked itself around his left arm, the frost-etin seeing through his ruse of feigning to hit with one hand but using the other to deal the killing blow._

_His magic-infused blade had pierced the giant deeply in the ribs, but even as the towering sentry fell to his knees, the grip on his left arm hadn't slackened. In a heady mixture of fear and fascination, Loki watched as his protective armor crumbled away like fragile glass from the giant's deadly frozen touch._

This is going to hurt_, Loki thought in the split second when the skin of his left arm was laid bare and vulnerable...but rather than the searing pain he expected from the burning cold, his eyes widened in abject horror when the Asgardian flesh of his left arm slowly turned blue. In an additional shock, not only was it turning blue, the distinctly raised geometrical patterns that were etched on every frost-etin's body began to appear on his own arm as well!_

_Utterly speechless, Loki gazed back helplessly at the equally appalled face of his supposed enemy, the sentry's bright red eyes staring back at him in accusation as the words, 'You are one of us!' screamed deafeningly in his mind._

NO!

_With a mental roar of defiance and anguish, the blade in Loki's right hand found its mark, stabbing the sentry in the chest and killing the giant instantly._

_Far above him, concealed in the shadows, King Laufey sneered triumphantly._

_"The old fool can hide you cleverly all he wants...but in the end...you will always be my son," he whispered._

_Breathing heavily, Loki observed the frost-etin blue of his left arm as it slowly faded, overrun by the familiar warm, pale flesh of his Asgardian skin. His eyes flitted nervously around him, relieved that the rest of the war-party was too far away to have seen what just transpired. He also realized that during his distracted state, no frost giants had come to attack him. Instead, he was largely ignored as they all ran past him to battle Thor and his friends. Distraught and confused, he went to rejoin his companions, vowing to confront Odin about the truth of what exactly in Helheim was happening!_

_Intercepting a frost-etin on his way to Fandral, Loki saw that his friend's laughter was silenced by the loss of his blade, thrown out of reach by his opponent. Hardly daunted by his predicament, Fandral backed away from the advancing giant and courageously darted forward, sliding easily between his opponent's legs. In one fluid motion, he stopped near his fallen blade, retrieved it with his left hand and turned around, slicing away the menacing weapon that was his opponent's arm and fatally skewering the giant's head like a grape. Fandral was a swordsman of great skill and although he favored his right hand in battle, he was deadlier with his left._

_Unknown to Fandral, his opponent in his dying breath had transformed his severed hand into a phalanx of long, sharp spikes, effectively spearing him when he turned around and he cried out in pain. Immediately, Loki defended him by killing a nearby frost-etin who was ready to take advantage of Fandral's injury, intending to extend the rest of the spikes and running him through like a pincushion._

Playtime's over_, Loki thought ominously._

_"Thor!" Sif shouted urgently, needing to pry Thor's attention away from his battle-lust while Volstagg and Hogun ran to quickly help Fandral, unceremoniously removing him from the ice spear that had pierced through his body._

_"We. Must. Go!" Loki proclaimed with authority. He may be forced to lead the rest of them home if Thor refused to cooperate._

_"Then go!" Thor replied callously, still in the grip of his battle-lust, seemingly unconcerned for his friends as he flung Mjollnir away from him, the enchanted hammer cutting down every frost-etin warrior in its path._

_Wincing, King Laufey grew angrier as he witnessed the ongoing murder of his kinfolk. From his vantage point, he strode forward with a whispered incantation, rousing an ancient monster from its dormancy, one of the few remaining guardians-beasts of their fallen citadel._

_Jolted by the presence of primordial magic, Loki gasped, stopping to stare at a colossal creature emerging from a block of ice that was dangerously too close to Sif and the Warriors Three._

_As Thor obstinately thrashed every frost-etin within his reach, Volstagg took the injured Fandral and slung him over his shoulder. They needed to make a hasty retreat before the colossal beast completely freed itself from its frozen cocoon._

_"Run!" Volstagg bellowed in Thor's direction, knowing his cry would be ignored. Odin's eldest son was too preoccupied seeking his glory in battle as he twirled Mjollnir rapidly, using it to repel an oncoming legion of frost giant warriors._

_"Thor!" Loki called desperately one last time, lagging behind as he ran, looking back to see a speck of red amidst a gathering multitude of glacial blue figures, the fallen citadel's guardian-beast nearly free of its confines._

_Not heeding his war-party's logical retreat, Thor lost himself in the visceral nature of combat, his chest swelling with pride at what he was accomplishing. Odin would see with his own eyes that he was a valiant warrior on the battlefield, proving himself a worthy successor to sit upon Asgard's throne._

_A blaring growl boomed across the bleak, frigid tundra, announcing the freedom of the colossal guardian-beast from its alcove as it promptly gave chase._

_Looking up from his draped position over Volstagg's shoulder, Fandral stared with apprehension at the charging monstrosity as it bounded tenaciously toward them, his eyes spying Thor from a distance, still stubbornly fighting his way past surges of incensed frost-giants._

_The guardian-beast's thundering footfalls collapsed the terrain around it, the colossal creature reaching Sif and the Warriors Three, its barbed tail barely missing the fleeing Aesir._

_Near King Laufey's former throne hall, just before the sheer number of attackers threatened to overwhelm him, Thor called forth a powerful bolt of lightning from the sky that merged with Mjollnir which he held high over his head. He then swung down and struck the ice at his feet, causing a ground-shattering quake that tossed the entire legion of charging frost-etins away from him, the upheaval spreading outward like the force of a wave._

_As more of the terrain disappeared around Thor's retreating war-party, the guardian-beast fell victim to the eroding landscape, sinking out of view down a fissure in its path. In a moment of relief, Fandral laughed with delight._

_"Heimdall! Open the bridge!" Volstagg commanded frantically when their tiny group halted abruptly near the edge of a gaping, bottomless chasm with nowhere left to run._

_Suddenly, without warning, a massive clawed limb pawed its way up from the edge of the chasm, the colossal guardian-beast's upper body looming forebodingly over the startled Aesir. Though far away, from within the citadel, Thor knew that his brother and his friends were in danger. Wasting no time, he spun Mjollnir and took to the air._

Brother, where are you?_ Loki mentally cried out in consternation, wondering if Thor was lost to them. Bracing himself, he built up his magic, ready to protect them with the strongest physical shield he could conjure hoping that the spell would succeed in delaying their deaths long enough for help to reach them. _

_"Stay close to me and brace yourselves," Loki said loudly as he, Sif and the Warriors Three backed away cautiously from under the monster's impressive shadow; Sif gasping in reaction when the guardian-beast pulled itself up to its full height on its hind legs._

_Just as the colossal creature was ready to attack and Loki was on the verge of manifesting his magical shield, a streak of red flew into the creature's toothy maw and interrupted it mid-roar; Thor bursting out the back of the guardian-beast's enormous skull, jerking it backward._

_There was a moment of tense silence as the beast sighed its last and fell to the ground, the ragged hole past its open jaws clearly visible, its carcass sliding off the edge of the cliff and into the bottomless chasm. Thor landed heroically in front of them and turned around with an arrogant grin...but his smile faded when he saw the innumerable hordes of frost giant warriors that surrounded them, King Laufey himself at the forefront._

_For the first time since Thor set foot on Jotenheim with his little war-party consisting of his brother and his friends...his bearded face showed heavy concern, perhaps even worry._

Oh, excellent! Some sense has finally dawned on him_, Loki thought sarcastically. _A bit late for it, Brother, now that we're all about to die._ He glared at Thor for maybe the last time._

I may have wished for an honorable death in battle...but I never envisioned it quite like this_, Sif thought to herself, standing beside Loki._

_From above, the situation looked dire as a vast sea of frost giants sprinted en masse toward six Aesir that were trapped at the edge of a gaping, bottomless chasm...and just when they believed they were doomed to be torn to shreds, a bright, shimmering light shone down, encircling them protectively from the heavens._

_Heralded by the grand, multicolored gleam of Bifrost, Odin the All-Father came forth astride his eight-legged steed Sleipnir wearing full golden battle-armor and wielding his magical spear, Gungnir, as he held it aloft over his head._

_"Father! We'll finish them together!" Thor cried jubilantly, knowing victory was theirs. _

_Behind him, Loki's face was solemn._

_"Silence," Odin hissed back menacingly._

_Stunned by the rebuke, Thor's elation turned to confusion and hurt._

_Easily the tallest and most powerful of the frost giants, the icy ground beneath King Laufey's feet churned, lifting him up to where Odin's steed stood, shifting restlessly. The Frost King's bright, red eyes regarded the Aesir ruler for a moment before his lips moved with a subtle smile._

_"All-Father...you look weary," King Laufey stated with some surprise. Odin was looking uncharacteristically haggard upon his saddle._

_"Laufey, end this now," Odin requested._

_"Your boy sought this out," the Frost King contested._

_Thor's companions all shifted their eyes in unison toward his blond head._

_"You're right. These are the actions of a boy," Odin said in his eldest son's defense. "Treat them as such." The Frost King looked displeased. "You and I can end this. Here. Now. Before there's further bloodshed."_

_"We are beyond diplomacy now, All-Father," the Frost King replied evenly, demanding weregild (equal compensation) for his slain kinfolk, his blood boiling with the need to punish the sole instigator: Odin's eldest son, Thor. "He'll get what he came for...war...and death."_

_"So be it," Odin said grimly with a nod._

_Clenching his right fist tightly at his side, the Frost King formed a jagged ice dagger with the intent of plunging it into Odin's healthy left eye._

_With a war-cry and a gesture of his spear, the All-Father repelled the Jotun's threat to strike as the surge of power sent the Frost Kingdom's ruler flying backwards a good distance away, the great giant snagging a rock that barely stopped his body from traveling further._

_Again, the heavens above them opened up as the bright light of Bifrost enveloped the small group of Aesir, claiming them for a swift return to their rightful realm._

_Below, King Laufey silently brooded, staring fixedly up at the dark expanse of sky over Jotunheim where the Asgardian invaders had made their escape, the aurora of Bifrost faintly lingering in dull wisps._

* * *

><p>Loki sat up sharply with a gasp, his skin and sheets damp with sweat as he greedy inhaled air, his hands flying to his throat. With trembling fingers, he felt the tightness around his neck, fearing that someone had tried to choke him to death while he slept.<p>

The digital clock on his nightstand table told him that it was barely dawn, his room completely dimmed by the thick curtain covering the glass wall that lead to his balcony.

He'd slept for barely three hours after they'd returned from their trip to Carmel.

Getting up unsteadily, he stumbled to his en-suite bathroom and straight to the sink where he peeled off his shirt, splashing cold water on his face and neck.

_Ah, that's better_, Loki thought thankfully as he briskly dried his wet skin with a soft towel that hung nearby. What he wanted was a quick shower but it meant making noise at such an early hour and he had no desire to wake the humans that shared the dwelling.

Unwilling to go back to sleep, Loki threw his damp clothes into a hamper and changed into a pair of loose, lightweight, low-rise lounge shorts. Padding back to his bed, he glanced at a white paper bag with rope handles on the carpeted floor next to it. Bending down to retrieve the large bag, he drew back the thick curtain that covered his glass sliding door. He took the paper bag outside to his room's balcony where he made himself comfortable on a chaise lounge as he tore away the packaging of his new computer.

Sorting through the product's documentation, he read the Quick Startup booklet and followed the instructions, easily plugging his aluminum laptop to the outlet in his room to charge its internal power source. Needing to wait for the gadget to charge, Loki settled into the lounge with the Owner's Manual and reached the last page in a short amount of time.

When he saw that his computer's battery was only at 25%, he frowned and walked over to his balcony's stone balustrade and leaned against it, resting his chin on his crossed forearms as he thought back to last night's dinner.

Meeting Jane Foster so unexpectedly had left him vulnerable and he'd _barely_ managed to compose himself in her presence. Unintentionally, his fumbling provoked her companion's displeasure, causing a man named Tony Stark to glower at him for most of the evening. He then spent the majority of dinner dodging relentless questions from the red-haired woman, Natalie Rushman, whose clandestine glances at Mars hadn't escaped his noticed. Despite the awkward moments, he found the reserved nature of the golden-haired Steve Rogers pleasant company along with a blonde who sat beside him named Pepper Potts. A young woman, Darcy Lewis seemed a bit high strung, nervously babbling in reaction to everything in the room, whereas Bryn and a young female named Savannah were practically inseparable. As for Alvis and his spouse Marius, they were expert conversationalists and spent the occasion chatting with everyone.

It had been difficult for him to speak to Jane Foster alone without Tony Stark hovering nearby but once he saw an opportunity, he seized it, his sly and eloquent tongue first apologizing for his initial uncomfortable behavior. Soon, he'd charmed her enough for a long conversation. The woman told him - _gushed_ was more accurate - about her being an 'astrophysicist' as she presented a basic summary of her current research within her area of expertise. Before her companion Tony Stark interrupted them and took her away, she'd given him a business card with her current contact information and a link to her 'website.'

Walking back inside, Loki searched his pant pockets for Jane Foster's business card and found it, smiling triumphantly as he stared at the printed words on the little rectangular piece of textured paper. Now that he'd found Thor's woman, he could plan a way to meet her again, _alone._ He would then interrogate the female mortal to learn _how_ she'd miraculously transformed Thor from a pompously arrogant, self-centered fool to a sickeningly humble, self-sacrificing hero!

However, if he chose to _capture_ Jane instead, it would force Heimdall to tell Thor of his whereabouts, immediately pushing his brother to beg the All-Father to send him to Midgard. With Jane as his hostage, he could compel Thor to do certain tasks for him, the most important being the recovery of his Aesir armor, and from there, the return of his lost immortality.

_Though it's a very appealing thought, it would be foolish of me to carry it out_, Loki reasoned to himself with a snicker. _Jane as my hostage would surely earn me Thor's wrath, and in my current mortal state, I would be powerless to defend myself. A less reckless and delicate manner is wiser._

Perhaps a better way would present itself once he'd learned more about how the humans functioned and interacted with each other in their day-to-day environment. Something he would observe soon enough when Monday approached. Alvis and Marius had promised him employment in their commercial establishment conveniently located at the base of the building they lived in - which was gratefully only an elevator ride away. Having recently been the unfortunate passenger with Bryn as a driver made him reluctant to learn how to operate a vehicle but it was a valuable necessity nonetheless. He would eventually need to learn how to drive if he wanted to further explore the world he was forcibly trapped in...just not at the moment.

Irritated that his computer was still unusable, Loki looked around the room to find something to occupy his time while he waited. Glancing at his television and its remote, he was curious to try it out but knew that doing so would be much too noisy.

Creeping silently out of his room and into the main living room, he randomly took books off the tall, narrow, dark-stained wooden shelves that were on either side of a large, wall-mounted LCD screen. With five fairly thick novels in his arms, Loki strolled back into his room and out to his balcony where he sat back down on the comfortable cushions of his chaise lounge, flipping pages to the first chapter of a book he'd chosen from the top of the stack.

* * *

><p>"Dinner last night was a blast," Darcy began after she'd halfway eaten her cheesy vegetable omelet, feeling more awake. An excited Stark had practically dragged them all out of bed to start the day; the addition of Captain Rogers bringing a definite air of mystery and intrigue to the mansion's social atmosphere.<p>

"It's amazing those club owners didn't publish a book. If last night was just a hint, sounds like they have a ton of interesting stories to tell," Jane said, sipping her hot cup of Chai tea with an extra frothy skim-milk topping. The press had already documented some of Stark's more notorious parties which she'd openly dissected with Darcy, Bryn Seaver and Savannah Swane, having spent most of last night chatting with them.

"Frankly, I'm surprised too," Stark replied with a shrug. "Not that I'd ever encourage them but it's nice to know there are still decent people out there I can trust." He clears his throat. "God knows I've put Alvi and Mars through hell with the way I acted not too long ago...I don't even remember half my visits to the Bourgeoisie or how trashed the place might've gotten. Alvi refuses to tell me and Pepper won't either."

"Speaking of night clubs, Bryn told us she works as a bartender _and_ as a dancer," Darcy said with admiration, flicking crumbs off her pastel colored, Victoria Secret Tee-jama. "She must stagger her schedule, otherwise, she'd be too trashed to function."

"Isn't Bryn a bit young to be working in such a...well, rather questionable profession?" Steve Rogers stated as delicately as he could. He and Pepper had enjoyed the time they spent talking to Bryn last night and he felt protective of her.

"You do what you have to do to survive," Jane replied flatly in Bryn's defense. "At least women these days get more chances to be independent, and if life hadn't dealt her a major turd_, _she'd be on the opposite side of the country right now graduating from Harvard Medical."

Their table grew silent under the canopy of Jane's irritation. Somehow, Pepper was able to coax Bryn into telling them about the tragedy that happened to her. Though she'd omitted details, the loss of her parents was undeniably great and everyone felt a good measure of sympathy for her.

"Jane, tell me something. That anemic looking guy with the black hair last night? I can't believe you gave him your business card," Tony said as he cleared his throat, trying to lighten the overall mood by abruptly changing topic. Munching on a slice of toasted whole grain bread generously topped with organic marmalade, he leaned back on a well-cushioned love-seat in a light-grey cotton shirt and grey-plaid Diesel pajama pants. His eyes gazed fondly at the woman seated to his right, her tangled dark-blonde hair loosely pinned on her head with a large pink clip.

Tony Stark sat beside Jane Foster on a wrought aluminum Venetian patio set, his other house-guests, Captain Steve Rogers and Darcy Lewis, sat across from them at a rectangular table, the pair sharing a love-seat of their own. The four enjoyed a catered breakfast feast under the warm morning Malibu sunshine on a curved veranda - an extension of the sculpted mansion's spacious kitchen - with a panoramic, seaside view of the surrounding area.

"Adam was a nice guy, Tony. He even made a point of apologizing for the way he reacted when we were first introduced. Turns out, he was just shocked coz I was the spitting image of someone else," Jane explained with a shrug. She briefly tugged on her unbuttoned baby-blue cardigan that slid off her shoulder which matched her slim-fitted, spaghetti-strap tank top and boxer shorts printed with dozens of little silver butterflies. "Plus, he seems well-educated, and my God, the way he _speaks…_"

Stark snapped her a barely disguised look of jealously that made her giggle.

"Oh yeah, I could listen to that guy's voice for hours. Easy on the eyes too," Darcy added with a grin, reaching for another strip of crunchy bacon from a pile on a square plate. "He's kind of exotic-looking too...like a male Snow White." Jane laughed out loud. "Did Adam hand you his business card? Ten-seconds flat that guy can get an agent in Hollywood. Hell, _I'll _be his agent."

Rogers chuckled softly as he worked on his third helping of triple-stacked pancakes smothered with butter and syrup, refilling his glass from a round pitcher of milk.

"I'll bet he's the runaway lead actor of some British Shakespearean troupe," Jane joked, savoring a forkful of her fruit-covered Belgian waffle. "Since we don't follow British Theatre, he can travel around California incognito."

"Nuh-uh. More like Adam's a relative of the British Royal Family gone AWOL and Scotland Yard's beside themselves tracking him down," Darcy said with mock seriousness. "Ooooh, quick! We should go check out the tabloid missing persons lists."

"What are you two _talking_ about?" Stark blurted out, looking both annoyed and confused.

"You're listening to official girl-talk," Darcy said nonchalantly, looking at Stark with a raised eyebrow. "What? You've never heard genuine girl-talk before?"

"Not _this_ version," Stark answered flatly and muttered, "all I hear is nonsense." When Jane and Darcy stared at him somewhat indignantly, he added, "Uh...the disadvantage of an only child?" When he caught Rogers trying to hide a smile, he responded, "Don't tell me _you_ understand what they're talking about?"

"No need to get all bent out of shape over it," Rogers replied. "Adam's a man of mystery and girls like that." He shrugged, looking boyish handsomely in a snugly fitted white T-shirt and striped pajamas. "It's nice to know that some things haven't changed."

"Speaking of girls, I noticed you and Pepper spent a _lot_ of time together last night," Stark singsonged, impishly wagging his eyebrows. "I think Cupid's arrow hit its mark."

"Tony, give it a rest," Jane spoke, rolling her eyes. "Obviously, they had a good time at dinner, so let's just leave it at that."

"I can't help it, he makes it too easy," Stark remarked with a laugh, assuming the role of the stereotypically bothersome 'big brother' and ignoring the fact that Roger's wasn't smiling anymore. "Besides, it's a healthy start. Let bygones be bygones and move forward."

The sharp ringing of pure silverware on premium handcrafted ceramics drew their attention as Rogers's fork dropped to his plate.

"Excuse me, I seem to have lost my appetite," Rogers said stiffly with a frown as he stood abruptly to his feet, bounding easily out of the love-seat he shared with Darcy and strode angrily into the mansion.

"Hey!" Jane admonished, swatting Stark's arm with the back of her left hand.

"What the hell?" Stark said in confusion, his eyes glancing at the empty space beside Darcy.

"Insensitive much?" Lewis mumbled, glaring at him before following after Rogers.

"'Let bygones be bygones and move forward?' The guy lost everything and then some, not to mention the love of his life, Tony. You can't expect him to just _forget_ it all, can you?" Jane replied in disbelief. "_You_ try waking up one day after seventy years passes by without you and see how you feel!"

Inside the mansion, Darcy searched for the whereabouts of Rogers and eventually found him trying to destroy a black punching bag in Stark's fully equipped personal gym. Leaning quietly against the thick padding of the navy-blue Everlast professional training stage set in the center of the open room, Darcy watched as Rogers took his frustration and anger out on the bag, noting that another one dangled freely from a chain in the ceiling beside him. The black bag being demolished was fastened in place by _two_ thick chains, the one through the floor slackening to accommodate his harder punches.

"I'm surprised that thing can stand up to you at all," Darcy commented softly after long minutes of silent observation.

"Stark had this specially designed for me," Rogers replied, stopping to wipe his damp face with a white towel. "The bag's been reinforced with layers of Kevlar fabric and the chain's attached to a suspension mechanism underneath the floor. A regular punching bag would've been dust by now."

"No doubt there," she agreed and cautioned to ask, "...um, you feeling better?"

"A bit," he answered with a shrug. He walked over to a long, low side table with shelves and metal drawers in a corner of the room and poured himself some water. Gazing out the transparent wall behind it, two pivoting panes of thick Plexiglass served as doors that led out of the gym to a small veranda that overlooked the northern end of Santa Monica Bay and the expanse of the Pacific Ocean. There were five, cushioned, metal lounge chairs with wood panelling that sat facing the landscape.

Helping herself to a red apple in a metal bowl beside the refreshment tray, Darcy took a generous bite and sat herself on one of two, red, cushioned bench-blocks beside the side table.

"I'm like the last person on Earth you should talk to about matters of the heart and all that...but I'm here if you just wanna vent," she offered. Knowing that her own grandmother was the former great love of _the_ Captain America gave her a measure of responsibility toward him.

Rogers seemed hesitant for a moment, then sat himself down on the bench beside hers, elbows resting on his knees as he bent over and closed his eyes, his fists kneading his forehead.

"I don't speak for Tony but I'll apologize for him anyway," Darcy said, taking another bite of her apple. "Guess it's true what they say about geniuses, they can't be good at everything and especially fall short in the social skills department."

"Yeah," Rogers said reservedly. His eyes remained closed as he listened to the steady bites and chews that Darcy made with her apple, his mind warring with the idea of finding 'closure.'

"I think..." Rogers began hesitantly. He felt Darcy shift in her seat to look at him. "I think...that maybe I'd like to visit your father...and hear some stories about Peg...your Granny Marge...if it's not too much trouble?"

"Really? Hey, no, no! It's no trouble at all," Darcy said excitedly. "Um...when would you - "

"Soon as we can make the trip?" Rogers replied, sitting up straight with a small smile. "I _really_ need to get outta here for a while." The thought of seeing Stark's face, for the moment, made his blood boil.

"Uh, okay," Darcy said and stood up quickly. "I'll, um, I'll go call my dad right now."

He chuckled when he heard a sharp squeak that echoed down the curved stone stairwell that led out of the gym.

Outside on the Stark mansion's kitchen veranda, a grey cloud hung over the formerly pleasant morning breakfast that was intended to complement last night's dinner.

"Shit, I really screwed up," Tony Stark lamented, looking genuinely chagrined.

"It's not me that needs the apology," Jane replied, crossing her arms.

"You're right, I should go find him and - "

"Jane, Jane, Jane!" Darcy called out as she ran frantically toward them.

"What happened?" Stark demanded, thinking the worst, as he and Jane stood to their feet.

"I can't find my cellphone!" Darcy complained with a whine.

"Calm down, Dare. What going on?" Jane said slowly.

"Steve wants to go visit my dad," Darcy explained after she took a deep breath.

"Huh? Why?" Jane and Stark both replied, confused.

"Well, first, Steve made it clear that he doesn't want to see Tony's face for a few days," Darcy stated, glowering at him. "...and second, I think he feels..." She turned to Jane. "Maybe moving on isn't something he wants to do...but it's something he _needs_ to do?"

The trio stood silently in place for a few moments.

"I can get a plane prepped and ready," Stark extended, trying to repair the damage he caused. "Just name the place and time."

"Gotta call my dad first. After I shoved off to college, my parents moved to St. Albans, Vermont to be closer to my dad's sister, my Aunt Mary, who lives in Montreal." She then added, "Damn. Dad'll _never_ believe who's coming over for dinner," Darcy grinned impishly.

* * *

><p>By the time his computer's wretched power source had reached its full charge, the humans with whom Loki shared his current dwelling began to stir. First to awaken was Bryn, who'd dragged herself to her bathroom to refresh herself and began rummaging for breakfast in the kitchen. Mars and Alvi followed about half-an-hour later, the three of them lively chatting away.<p>

Sighing, Loki knew that his absence would surely bring any one of them knocking on his door, interrupting what he needed to do on his new computer.

_This will have to wait till later tonight_, Loki said to himself as he unplugged his laptop and placed it on his bedside table. True to his prediction, he heard someone approaching his door as he headed straight for his en suite bathroom and started the shower.

Outside, Bryn paused when she heard the faint sound of water running.

_Oh...guess I don't need to bug him then_, she thought to herself, turning around with a tiny smile and a blush on her face when she recalled the last time she decided to sneak into Adam's room. Though the temptation to see him naked again was deliciously enticing, she'd rather not stamp the word 'Pervert' on her forehead or get another lecture from Adam about her 'unladylike' behavior.

"Adam's in the shower," Bryn announced and rolled her eyes when Alvi and Mars exchanged mischievous glances. "Hey, be my guest. I'm think his door's unlocked."

"Oh, really?" Mars replied, narrowing his eyes. "You sound too sure of yourself."

"Done the deed now, have you?" Alvi teased and laughed when Bryn looked away with a blush. "Bravo, darling. Didn't know you had it in you."

"In your dreams, Alvi," Bryn bit back, knowing she'd already given herself away. Having a poker face wasn't one of her strong points.

"How was it? Was it everything you'd hoped to see?" Mars grinned.

"You guys really wanna know?" Bryn said, leaning forward. When both her eager guardians moved closer, she added, "Nah, not telling," and laughed when they groaned in disappointment.

"Quite a fuss we have here," Adam said suddenly, startling the three of them.

"Morning, you," Bryn greeted, wondering how Adam had gotten showered and dressed so fast. "Whatcha want for breakfast?"

"More appropriately, I should be asking what _you_ require," he corrected with a smile.

"Right," Bryn muttered. She had hoped in vain that Adam had forgotten about his pledge of 'slavery' to her. "Adam…"

"Bryn, it's absolutely no bother, I assure you," he said with amusement.

"I'm making French Toast, any takers?" Alvi offered, saving Bryn from being further flustered.

"Me!" Bryn said excitedly, welcoming the interruption. "Chocolate sprinkles, please."

"I'll make the strawberry compote," Mars volunteered, checking the fruit pantry.

"Add blueberries to mine, love?" Alvi requested as he began cutting thick slices from a large loaf of homemade Challah bread.

When Adam offered to help, Alvis immediately called him over and gave him instructions. Soon, their gourmet French Toast breakfast was ready and everyone savored the portions on their plates, their dark-haired guest praising the wonderful flavor of the dish with delight.

"Is something the matter, Bryn?" Adam asked, having caught her repeatedly glancing at her watch.

"My landlord, Raoul's coming back from Brazil," Bryn said with a frown, not looking forward to dealing with him. "I'm paid up till next month but he's gonna go ape-shit when he finds out I completely bailed on him. I signed a contract that says I'm supposed to give him sixty days notice before totally moving out. He's gonna end up keeping my deposit and probably demand that I keep paying rent till he finds a new tenant."

"Don't waste your time on Raoul, dearie, I can handle him. I just need to make a few calls and I can find him a new tenant in no time," Mars said. "That boy's all bark and no bite."

"Thanks, Mars, but I have to tell him in person, regardless," Bryn said with a sigh.

"I shall accompany you there," Adam said, leaving no room for discussion.

"Fine," Bryn grumbled, "but keep your mouth shut and don't try arguing with him, it'll make things worse, okay?"

"I promise to be merely an observer for the entire exchange," Adam said with sincerity and placed a hand over his heart in emphasis. She couldn't hide a small smile in reaction.

"Excuse me a moment," Alvis said when he swiftly ran to answer his cell phone to a custom caller ringtone of Pink's 'Get This Party Started.' "This is Alvis. What can I do for you, Mister Stark?"

At the sound of that name, Mars and Bryn turned their heads in Alvi's direction, attentively eavesdropping on the one-sided conversation.

"How many guests will be attending?" Alvis inquired. "Oh, I see. A more intimate setting can be arranged then. We can sequester the VIP area...that won't be a problem, however, I can't guarantee that other people in the club will...very well, we'll play it by ear. I'll see you in two weeks then, Mister...if you insist. See you in two weeks, Tony. Same to you." He ended the call, staring at his phone in somewhat of a daze.

"Well, love? Don't keep it to yourself," Mars prodded.

"It seems...Tony Stark wishes to stop by the club in two weeks," Alvis answered. "He'll be bringing a few friends he said need 'unwinding.'"

"Shit," Bryn muttered, not exactly looking forward to baring it all onstage, especially to high profile people she'd personally met...and the memory of Steve Rogers's Big Brother disapproval brought back some of her old stage fright.

"I can ask one of the other girls to dance that night, if you wish," Alvis said, noting Bryn's discomfort.

"Like I'd give Jessica the pleasure of watching me chicken out? No way in hell," Bryn declared adamantly. "Just need to find my game-face and off I go."

"We can add dramatic lingerie under your costume so you're not completely naked," Mars suggested. "Something with crystal studding…"

"We'll hash it out after I get back from Raoul's," Bryn said, staking a final bite of her French Toast before tugging Adam out the door.

* * *

><p>"That went well, I think," Darcy snickered, ending the long distance call. As she predicted, her dad thought she was pulling a prank! Captain Super Soldier was smiling in amusement as he sat beside her on a lounger in the Stark mansion's kitchen veranda.<p>

"There's no need to rush them," Rogers said. "We can give them a few days to - "

"Nope, we're good to go," Darcy insisted, giving him a thumbs up. "They want us over for dinner, pronto. Besides, my dad's excited to meet you."

"I really don't mean to put your parents in such a tight spot," Rogers said.

"Hey, it's not everyday they get _the_ Captain America in their living room," Darcy replied. "Besides, mom and I get to finally sort through Granny Marge's things. Dad misses her the most and he didn't want any of her stuff removed till he felt ready. You're being there finally gets things going."

"Everything set?" Jane asked as she strolled onto the veranda with Stark beside her.

"Jet's prepped at LAX and the chopper's here within the next ten minutes," Tony said, glancing at Rogers who turned away. "You both have everything you need?"

"Yup, we're all set," Darcy replied, knowing Rogers was still angry with Stark.

"I'll be waiting at the helipad," Rogers said curtly as he stood and strode through the kitchen toward the mansion's front door, a cylindrical military duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Tony, just give him space," Jane reminded, placing a hand on Stark's arm when he moved forward after Rogers and Darcy. "Wait till they get back from Vermont." When he nodded quietly, she smiled back, pleased that he seemed increasingly more agreeable to her suggestions.

Following Rogers out to the mansion's helipad, Darcy stood quietly nearby and decided to wait for several long minutes before breaking their companionable silence.

"Y'know, you don't have to push yourself to - "

"It's okay…" Rogers said softly. "I can't keep...living in the past anymore. No amount of regret or wishing things were different won't change what's been done."

"Chopper's here," Darcy said cheerfully, trying to lighten the heavy sadness in the air. "My mom and dad can't wait to meet you."

Jane and Tony soon joined them to wave goodbye as the helicopter lifted off and yawed to follow a direct flight path to Stark's private hanger in LAX where a personal Hondajet - in red, gold and silver colors - sat waiting to shuttle them to Franklin County State Airport.

* * *

><p>"I swear, Raz, I <em>cannot<em> get enough of this place," Clint Barton said excitedly as he and a friend walked out of DeLessio Market & Bakery, their food containers of special biodegradable material were stacked high inside large, reusable bags. "Damn, I wanted to buy everything in there."

"Pace yourself. You're in San Francisco for a few days, right?" Orazio 'Raz' Alioto replied with a laugh. "Unless you're planning to take off to Vegas early."

"Nah. I'm in no rush. My equipment prep's all done. Just need to show up," Barton grinned.

The pair hopped into a matte-black, fully customized off-road Jeep with a retractable soft-top that Alioto designed personally, one of the many hobbies he'd adopted after being honorably discharged from active military service.

"I see you've kept yourself busy," Barton chuckled, noting the curious stares their jeep received from pedestrians. "Body armor, recovery gear, engine snorkel, steel wheels, nitrogen suspension...just add oscillating blades and severed heads on pikes to the hood, and hey, we've rolled out of a Mad Max movie."

"Made this thing to defend against tourists," Raz joked as he carefully pulled out of his parked spot and onto Market Street. "Cause this city sure as hell's got enough of them," he griped, hoping to reach Van Ness Avenue with little to no hassle through the downtown pandemonium.

As the jeep inched its way along, Barton caught sight of a young, attractive brunette in a lime-green, short-sleeved top and jeans, her long hair tied back in a pony tail. She was about to jaywalk across the street with her companion: a tall, pale-skinned, dark-haired man who, as first impressions went, made him irrationally uncomfortable.

"Hey, whoa!" Barton warned from the passenger's seat, their jeep slamming to a stop just inches away from hitting them. The brunette had darted forward, her companion bravely shielding her from harm's way with his own body. Also, the dark-haired man had a pair of shockingly _intense_ green eyes that glared menacingly at him.

"Yo, Malibu Barbie, are you _begging_ to get killed?" Raz shouted angrily, completely focused on the startled brunette in front of him.

"Let's go, Bryn," the brunette's male companion urged before she could argue as he ushered them quickly across the street, the two of them blending instantly with the crowded sidewalk.

Grumbling expletives, Raz stomped on the gas, barely avoiding another group of people recklessly cutting through oncoming traffic.

Brows furrowed in concentration, Barton stood up off his seat as he scanned for the brunette and her companion in a flurry of faces...but the pair had evaded his keen eyesight. Beside him, Raz continued to curse at pedestrians who insisted on playing Duck Duck Goose with moving vehicles.

"The fuck's wrong with these people?" Raz bellowed out in annoyance, scowling when someone gave him the middle finger salute. He blared his horn in protest. "Fucking tourists."

"Some kind of parade?" Barton guessed as he caught sight of a tightly packed group of men and women wearing costumes several yards ahead of them.

"There's always some shit happening here," Raz replied, eager to leave the chaos of Market Street. When he noticed his friend remained standing, he added, "Something wrong?"

"Huh? No, it's nothing," Barton said and sat down.

"I've got the paperwork for the tournament back at the restaurant," Raz said, relieved that their Jeep now cruised down Van Ness Avenue. He'd then cut across Bay Street, taking Taylor straight to Fisherman's Wharf. "You sure you're okay staying at the Travelodge? I got a guest room at the restaurant."

"Touched by the offer, Razzmatazz, as always," Barton replied and shook his head. "Can't. You know why."

"Dunno, I'm starting to think you're getting paranoid," Raz teased.

"In my line of work? It's a requirement," Barton said. "So, you heard from Elvira?"

"Yeah, saw him recently. He came over for a favor. Wanted ID photos for this weirdo he introduced me to. Wanna know the best part? The weirdo's _living_ with him."

"That kinky sunnovabitch," Barton laughed.

"Fuck, no, it's nothing like _that_," Raz paused then made a face. "Least I hope not," he muttered and immediately purged his head free of all thoughts on the subject. "Anyway, the weirdest part is, when I met the guy...I dunno how else to describe it...he didn't _feel_ right. Gave me the fucking creeps."

"Go on."

"First impression: guy's totally harmless. Elvis introduces him as Adam Laoki from Iceland...but he spoke British English like a Royal," Raz said, shrugging. "The guy was soft-spoken, intelligent...bit of a pretty-boy." Barton raised a brow in reaction. "Tall, slim, maybe six-one, six-two. Shoulder-length black hair; _inky_ black. His complexion? Smooth-as-fuck skin. _Girl_ smooth." He laughed. "He's even got shaped eyebrows like a movie star. Also, immaculate posture, and the way he moves, graceful, like he took ballet or some shit."

"I think you're in love," Barton snickered.

"By the way, did I mention that I watched Adam Laoki do _two _consecutive MFDCs? First target was at thirty, the second at sixty yards. The guy struck gold on both 2D targets with a _single draw_ using my recurve." (MFDC = M*F* Dead Center)

"Kiss my ass. You're fulla shit."

"Really? I'm fulla shit, huh?" Raz remarked, supremely pleased with himself that he'd gotten Barton's undivided attention. "_Before_ I formally invited him to shoot the target range...this Adam Laoki guy, with _one_ shot, fucking pinwheels the 'I' in the America sign for my weapons collection with a priceless Viking archery set from the fucking ninth century!"

Had Barton been driving, he would've unintentionally caused a devastating pile up since his foot would have instantly slammed on the jeep's brakes in response to what he heard.

"Impossible," Barton said loudly in disbelief as he stared at his friend. "_Nobody_ can shoot like that." _Other than me, anyway._ "Seriously? Three ADCs using three totally different bows?" _With one bow too old to even fathom!_ (ADC = Absolute Dead Center)

"Well, the weirdo did it, okay? Elvis and I saw the whole thing with our own eyes," Raz shouted back. It had left him upset and a bit shaken when he recalled what happened during his encounter with Werner's Weirdo. Now that he'd vented the entire incident to Barton, meeting Adam Laoki again was inevitable. Not only that...he deliberately withheld the fact that his preliminary search into Adam's past came up _blank_. It was like the guy didn't exist! Who the fuck was Laoki and why was Werner so eager to help him?

Currently in deep thought as he sat in the jeep's passenger seat, Barton took his phone, firing off a text message to a mutual friend: 'Hey, Elvira. Gotta talk to you. Call me.'

Neither he nor Raz spoke another word to each other till their jeep arrived at their destination.

* * *

><p>"Can you believe that asshole?" Bryn fumed, locking her borrowed Acura MDX with its key fob till it beeped as it sat in a public parking lot. They were a block away from her old basement apartment and she wanted a slow walk to gather her thoughts before facing her former landlord, Raoul Ramirez. "It was a red light and that jeep saw us coming! Would it have killed those guys to <em>wait<em>?"

"Under the circumstances, Bryn, I believe that jeep would've killed _us_," Adam pointed out.

"They were looking right _at_ us," Bryn argued and sighed. "Forget it."

After several footsteps in complete silence, Adam remarked, "Why are you so...reluctant to speak to this Raoul?"

"Raoul's what I call a major 'drama queen.' He even acts like some wannabe gangster - it's ridiculous," she replied in annoyance.

"There's no need to worry. The crux of the matter is that you no longer wish to live there. Unless the contract you signed explicitly states that he can withhold your deposit for leaving or force you to pay more, then an apology for your sudden and unexpected departure is enough," he explicated. When Bryn stared at him with widened eyes, he added, "However, should Raoul decide to put up a fuss," he smiled faintly, "then simply ignore him."

With a look of awe, Bryn said, "How do you _do_ that?"

"Do what?" Adam asked, puzzled.

"That thing you do where you make everything sound so easy," she said with a laugh.

"Isn't it?" he countered and noted that Bryn's steps faltered, her mouth slightly agape.

"Let's go," she said with a shake to her head, tugging Adam's arm along out of habit.

* * *

><p>They sat at a booth in a corded-off area on the second floor of Alioto's seafood restaurant in Fisherman's Wharf. Though Barton enjoyed the good food and the company of an old friend, his thoughts kept looping back to Raz's earlier story of 'Werner's Weirdo'...including his bizarre encounter with of a pair of phenomenally <em>freaky<em> green eyes on the streets of downtown San Francisco.

"You okay there?" Raz asked with concern. "You're spacing out on me."

"Shit, man, I'm sorry," Barton frowned, wondering why Alvis hadn't contacted him yet. "I can't seem to shake off that thing you told me about earlier."

"If you're dwelling on it, that can't be good," Raz said, shoveling a big portion of stew from their dishes of steaming take-out into his mouth.

The loud clattering of a vibrating smartphone on their table made both men curse.

"Speaking of," Barton muttered as he grabbed his phone to answer it. "You sure took your sweet-ass time getting back to me, _Elvira_. Uh-huh. Excuses, excuses. Yeah, well, I hear you're starting to slip old man." When Raz began to pointedly shake his head, he raised his hand, signaling his friend to keep calm. "Since when have you make a habit out of taking in street rats...and crazy ones, for crying out loud?" A pause. "Did he now?" A longer pause as his brows crunched together. "Huh. So, can I meet the sunnovabitch before I head out to Vegas? I'd like to see what he can _really_ do for myself." He laughed. "He's _not_ gonna disappear, I promise. You and Raz can even be his chaperones, if it makes you happy." His eyebrows rose up his forehead. "Tuesday afternoon's good. See you then." After he hung up, he tossed his phone on the table and scratched his head.

Chuckling, Raz said, "Typical Werner, right? Guy keeps you guessing."

"That's why I like him," Barton grinned. "Coz retirement just made him a lot more interesting." His face turned reflective. "That bastard was one helluva soldier." Then he chuckled. "I don't think he took the 'old man' comment too well though."

The two friends laughed out loud.

"He's gonna shoot us both on sight for that one," Raz grinned. "Where we meeting him?"

"Elvira's bringing the guy over to where I'm staying at the Travelodge," Barton explained with a shrug.

"I'm not bullshitting you about that Laoki guy," Raz said. "You'll _know_ what I'm talking about when you meet him."

Barton grinned. "Looking forward to it."

* * *

><p>She took a deep breath when her landlord's car, a 2-door sparkle-orange Cadillac CTS-V Coupe, sat parked on the driveway of her former address.<p>

Bryn was _not_ looking forward to seeing Raoul Ramirez.

"Shit," she muttered, her legs refusing to move.

"You appear like someone marching to their death," Adam chuckled.

"Good description since I might as well be," Bryn lamented and groaned. "Screw it, I'm chickening out. Let's go."

"'Chickening out'?" Adam repeated with raised eyebrows.

"Slang for 'I'm being a complete coward' and calling it quits," Bryn declared, already pulling them in the opposite direction.

"Bryn, wait…"

"No. I don't think I can emotionally handle an epic chew-out right now," she argued.

"Bryn. Stop."

She reluctantly turned to look at Adam when he gently grasped her shoulders.

"There's nothing to fear," Adam said and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "I shall be by your side. You will not be facing this man alone."

At that precise moment, Bryn was incredibly tempted to physically melt into him, the warmth of Adam's stare sending happy chills dancing across her skin.

Smiling slightly, she nodded slowly and took a few deep breaths, both of them resuming their measured trek toward her former basement apartment.

Though every step she took felt heavier, Adam's right hand - that was deliciously stroking her back as she walked - kept her moving.

* * *

><p>Hours away, in the town of St. Albans in Vermont, Darcy Lewis quickly shut the door that led to a specially prepared guest-room in her parent's home and leaned against it with an exasperated sigh. Dinner at the Lewis household had never been so eventful. To Darcy's embarrassment, she witnessed both her parents as they acted clumsily, gushing like teenagers the minute Steve Rogers passed through the front door.<p>

"Okay, I am so, _so_, sorry about that," Darcy said with a blush. "I swear, I was like this close," she gestured with her fingers, "to disowning them. My own parents!"

Chuckling, Steve Rogers sat down with a bounce on the bed behind him, the soft mattress covered with a quilted duvet boldly colored in red, white and blue. At a glance, the entire room was rearranged and themed to suit Rogers's legendary reputation as Captain America. Despite the awkwardness at dinner, he was delighted to have been invited to spend a few days in the Lewis home. Not only was he miles away from Tony Stark, his being _here_ gave him the opportunity to be closer to the memory of his beloved Peggy.

"Didn't know your folks were such big fans," Rogers replied with amusement.

"Well, neither did I," Darcy said, her lips curling in mild distaste at the guest-room's kitschy decor. "You can blame my Granny Marge for their over-enthusiasm. When she got sick and had to stay in the hospital, she...uh...talked a _lot_ about Captain America and his self-sacrifice during the war."

Walking toward an old metal trunk in a corner of the room, Darcy knelt down and pulled off a vintage cloth banner draped over it, one of many that were used during Rogers's USO morale campaigns. The custom aluminum luggage trunk was a faded dark green, the exterior marred by numerous scratches and dents. Obviously, the trunk itself was used quite thoroughly by its owner. From where he sat, Rogers visually assessed its dimensions: 43 inches wide, 25 inches high and 23 inches deep. He recognized the trunk's design which was popular during the 30s and 40s and was made to function as a portable wardrobe, the trunk halved into two equal parts. Three, sturdy, evenly spaced latches secured it and a large lock hung from the main latch in the middle.

"For a long time, we all thought that the stuff Granny Marge told us about were just stories she heard during her service in the British military," Darcy added. "You can imagine our shock when we got this." Her hand rested on the old trunk and her fingers drifted to the large lock. "We found this thing when my dad decided that he wanted to sell the old house where he grew up. He was totally against renting it out and kept the place around for a few years like some kind of shrine. When I was ready for college, he figured Granny Marge would've wanted to fund my education, so we cleaned the place out and found this trunk buried in the basement under a pile of my Grandpa's tools," she explained, staring at it. She then felt Rogers move off the bed to stand behind her.

"Why is it still locked?" Rogers asked curiously. He fully expected that such a treasure of Peggy's would've been thoroughly investigated by members of her own family.

"Because of this."

Using her thumbs, Darcy manipulated specific rivets on the upper half of the trunk, a sharp click revealing a cleverly hidden drawer seamlessly integrated under one of the trunk's metal bands.

"My dad and I were ready to cut the lock when I suddenly had this epiphany." Her voice sounded distant and her face was sad. "For the longest time, I never understood why Granny Marge made me memorize these words: three in apart, two in down, one in up. She even had this little song so I'd always remember. She never told me what the words were for...only that I'd know when to use them and what they meant when the time was right. The weirdest part is...over the years, I totally forgot about those words...until I stared at this trunk." Her fingers touched the rivets that had slightly shifted on her late grandmother's metal luggage. "...and just like that...I knew what the words meant...and what I had to do."

"Must've been a very important secret," Rogers said carefully. "What did you find?"

"I think it's better if you take a look."

Moving to sit cross-legged beside her, Rogers pulled out the trunk's slim, secret drawer and inside it was a dusty 12 x 12 inch leather-bound book. On the front cover wa window where a sepia-tone group photograph was carefully centered showing several women posing in skirted military uniforms. Among the women stood a young Peggy Carter.

"I think it's an old scrapbook Granny Marge made before she moved to America," Darcy said softly.

Taking slow, deep breaths, Steve Rogers flipped to the first page and he gasped slightly when he saw the neatly pasted picture.

It was a photograph of himself wearing an army boot camp training uniform in his _original_ body. He stood at attention and looked like a high school freshman compared to the other candidates.

"Oh, boy…" Steve muttered breathlessly as he stared at the photo. "I've almost forgotten what I used to look like."

"We didn't make the connection at first, we just thought they were random photos…" Darcy said. She and Rogers shifted on the hardwood floor, their backs leaning against the old metal trunk as they sat close together. "When we finally realized what we were looking at...we totally freaked out."

"I can see why…" Rogers replied as he continued to turn the pages. The photos were painstakingly arranged in chronological order, and based on the variety, the images were gathered from different sources. Some were large enough to cover an entire page, others were collages and newspaper clippings were tacked in as an afterthought.

"How'd you even get recruited looking like that?" Darcy asked. "No offense."

"I _didn't_," Rogers admitted. "I applied to every recruitment office I could find and the results were always the same. I failed the medicals." He gazed nostalgically at the photo of an older, bearded man with round spectacles in a dark-brown wool suit who always stood apart but was ever present in the background. The former Nazi scientist, Dr. Abraham Erskine. The man largely responsible for turning him into a superhero.

The next page held a large photograph taken by someone from a high vantage point that overlooked the central gallery where Rogers was born as Captain America. From the time stamp and serial numbers printed on the picture's lower right-hand corner, it was easy to guess that Peggy had managed to smuggle out an official, classified file for her personal use.

"It's like a modern Frankenstein movie set," Darcy remarked. "Well, modern for the 1940s, anyway." Her eyes traveled along the many instrumentation panels and settled on a strange metal capsule that was placed in the center of a circular gallery.

The next few pages were a collage of Rogers being strapped down to the metal capsule, the initial injection phase of Erskine's serum, the capsule closing around him and of Howard Stark busy at a control panel, the metal capsule emitting a bright light from within. Remarkably, Peggy Carter had collected priceless pictorial evidence of his Super Soldier transformation.

"It must've been awful."

"I was absolutely terrified but I still had the stones to crack jokes," Rogers confessed with a soft chuckle. "It was the biggest gamble I'd ever taken, and with my own life no less...but I had nothing more to lose. Even after the first set of needles went through my skin - God, it hurt like hell - I'd convinced myself that it would all work out. That come what may, I'd endure." He paused, looking reflective. "I can't even begin to describe how that procedure _felt_...but it's like every cell in my body went supernova," he raised his hands and clenched them into fists. "I held on for as long as I could before I passed out...and for a split second, I thought I was gonna die." He unclenched his fists and laid them on the scrapbook perched on his lap. "When I came to...I so dizzy and disoriented that I almost forgot where I was. Then I saw Peggy smiling, and all at once, everyone began cheering." He smiled slightly. "That's when I knew the experiment worked."

The last photo of the event was just before the explosion.

"In the middle of everyone congratulating one another, there was loud bang. It rained glass and debris," Rogers narrated with a faraway gaze. "The observation lounge overlooking the gallery was engulfed in flames and people took cover wherever they could. Then there was gunfire. Next thing I knew, someone was hurt and Peggy was shooting at a man who was trying to escape with a stolen sample of the Super Soldier serum." He closed his eyes and swallowed, recalling Dr. Erskine's final moments. "Then this incredible rage took over and I reacted on impulse. In my bare feet, I bolted out of the bunker and chased down the goon on my own steam like a wild man." He turned his head and regarded Darcy who was listening intently. "For the first time in my life...my body did _exactly_ what I wanted it to...and _more_." He smiled, his face filled with boyish glee. "I was leaping over cars, charging past oncoming traffic, smashing through windows, dodging bullets...at the time it seemed perfectly normal. I was so completely focused on catching this guy."

"So, did you get him?" Darcy asked eagerly.

"I caught him," Rogers nodded. "Cornered the goon at a pier but he smashed the last remaining sample of Erskine's serum. Then the twit bumped himself off with a cyanide pill." He frowned with distaste at the memory.

"You definitely got a crash course on how to use your new body," Darcy smiled.

"Yeah, once the adrenaline wore off, I got a chance to process just how much I'd changed," Rogers replied. "Unfortunately, Dr. Erskine took the secret of his perfected formula to his grave."

"Just as well, I guess," Darcy said with a shrug. "I don't even wanna imagine what would've happened if that serum got delivered to the bad guys."

"I guess…" Rogers muttered sadly as he stared at the photo on the final page of the scrapbook. It was a group picture taken by one of Howard Stark's associates, of him, Peggy and Howard Stark posing briefly before they boarded his private plane that took them behind enemy lines during his first _real_ mission as a military soldier. He was determined to rescue his friend, James 'Bucky' Barnes, and the rest of the 107th division who were being held captive inside an enemy weapons plant. There was a heaviness in his chest when he thought of Bucky.

"My parents told me that you're welcome to have anything you want from this trunk; _especially_ that scrapbook," Darcy informed Rogers. "It's only fair since you knew her way before we did."

"I appreciate that," Steve said warmly. He stood up, set aside the large scrapbook and bent over to examine the trunk. "Ready to see what's inside it?"

"Are _you_?" Darcy countered.

* * *

><p>"I think that went rather well," Adam spoke as he and Bryn strolled toward their parked vehicle. "Wouldn't you agree?"<p>

"I should've videoed that entire conversation," Bryn replied, shaking her head. "Coz Mars and Alvi won't believe me even if I tell them."

"Why is that?"

"Because Raoul _never_ agrees to anything much less on the _first try_," Bryn stated in amazement as they approached Alvi's MDX.

"The man seemed agreeable enough," Adam said with a shrug.

"Nothing ever fazes you, does it?" Bryn said with a laugh. They boarded the MDX, clicking their seat-belts into place. "Raoul was a complete stranger to you but you handled him like you've known him for years!"

"I have a knack for diplomacy," Adam said with a grin as Bryn guided the MDX away from the parking lot and onto the street.

"_Diplomacy_? You were outright flirting with him!" she blurted out, mentally cursing her runaway mouth. _Too late now._ "Not that Raoul minded in the least."

"A skilled negotiator employs whatever is necessary to satisfy both parties," Adam explained. "After speaking to Raoul, it was easy to guess the best method of persuasion."

"A little more _persuasion_ and the two of you would've gone on a date," Bryn laughed.

"When it comes to the art of seduction, Bryn, the allure you project to ensnare both a man and a woman," Adam stated with a mischievous smile, "is quite similar."

With a slight gape, Bryn watched as Adam smiled back at her nonchalantly and she muttered, "I seriously _doubt_ it's that easy."

There was a long period of silence as Bryn continued to drive at a relaxed pace, mentally mulling over Adam's 'revelation' on seduction, and wondered if he was messing with her personal sensibilities. For the moment, she chose to tackle the topic later.

"General Manager? You haven't even set foot inside the club yet!" Bryn giggled out loud, recalling Adam's antics. She wondered how Alvi and Mars would react to Adam's report of his performance toward her former landlord. "You sounded so convincing you almost had _me_ believing it."

"I'm glad you approve," Adam replied, looking pleased. "What's important is that Raoul _believed_ my claim thus preventing him from ever intimidating you financially in the future." He winked. "Although...I did gather much of my performance from an episode entitled 'Criminal Minds' which I saw on Alvi's large television."

* * *

><p>"I should go," Darcy said softly when she saw the grief stricken look on Steve Roger's face.<p>

"No, please, stay," Rogers insisted. "She's your grandmother." He took a deep, steady breath. "Besides, I could use the company."

"Okay," Darcy said with a slight smile as they both knelt down to examine her Granny Marge's secret trunk. Also, it amazed her how _easily_ it was for Rogers to bare-handedly pry apart a huge padlock!

"Here goes," Rogers said after tilting the heavy trunk to its proper right-side-up position. He even placed a beach towel underneath the trunk to protect the guest room's hardwood floor.

Sliding apart into two equal halves, the trunk was designed to mimic a portable wardrobe. The left side was a small closet with various hangers and accessories to keep garments flat, a small wooden toiletry case attached below. On the right half was a series of eight drawers that progressively increased in height, the top being the smallest.

They began with the miniature closet. Rogers detached the toiletry case which Darcy immediately opened. Inside were perfectly preserved hygiene products, some were commercially popular during the 40s and others were issued by the military.

As Darcy browsed the items inside the toiletry kit, Rogers slowly and reverently removed the neatly hung garments that once belonged to Peggy Carter: two coats, three complete sets of uniforms, and at the very back...the stunning red dress that he now realized she'd worn just for _him_. Swallowing back a thick lump in his throat, he lovingly laid the dress down on the guest bed beside Peggy's uniforms.

"Wow, that dress is...no wonder you fell in love with her," Darcy said, astonished that her Granny Marge had ever worn something so bold and so vibrant.

"Red was Peggy's favorite color," Rogers replied, "and it really suited her."

"Not the way _we_ knew her," Darcy said. "She hardly wore lipstick but when she did it was never red, and she always wore blue, so we assumed it was her favorite." She saw Rogers's mournful expression. "I guess this trunk was her way of..." _Crapity-crap-alooza_. She stopped abruptly, fearing she'd already said too much. "Anyway, I wonder what's in these - whoa!"

In an attempt to derail a depressing topic, Darcy opened the top drawer of her grandmother's old trunk and found something she hadn't expected. Blushing, she shut the drawer with a sharp tap.

"What's wrong?" Rogers asked, concerned.

"Nothing!" Darcy said quickly, her face beet red. "I think you better go through this top one by yourself later." When she opened the second drawer, she sighed with relief that the contents weren't so _revealing_. There was definitely a limit to how much she wanted to know about her own grandmother.

It hadn't taken them much longer to completely empty the trunk - except for the mysterious top drawer - as Darcy and Rogers stared at an assorted pile of clothing and footwear.

"How much did your grandmother tell you about her service in the military?" Rogers asked Darcy when he saw her admiring Peggy Carter's old uniform.

"Not much. She told us she was part of the reserve forces."

"Peggy Carter was more than that. She was a Special Forces Agent for British Intelligence," Rogers corrected. "She was confident, hard as nails, courageous and she was one helluva an officer." He regarded Darcy fondly. "I can see many of her good qualities in you."

"Yeah, well, I'm what you call a work-in-progress," she replied, blushing again. "Thanks for the compliment though." She stood up and headed for the door. "Listen, I should get going. I think it's better if you go through _that_ drawer without me." She opened the door and was halfway out before she turned and said, "Good night."

"Good night," Rogers replied with a warm smile before Darcy shut the door.

Slightly apprehensive about what he would find, Rogers drew in a deep breath and opened the mystery drawer. Sure enough, he immediately blushed when he saw the items that were inside: a large assortment of lingerie...some of them shockingly racy.

A short mental debate and Rogers decided that it was best to let Darcy's mother tackle the drawer's _very_ personal contents. Just as he was shutting it, the hem of a camisole shifted, uncovering a series of bold, printed letters.

Reaching into the drawer, Rogers pulled free a blue and red chevroned airmail envelope with several postmarks from 1955, sent from somewhere in New York and stamped repeatedly with the words 'Return to Sender' in red ink.

The letter was addressed to _him_.

Wasting no time, Rogers moved to sit under the bright lamplight next to his bed, his back leaning against the bed-frame. His fingers began to tremble as he carefully opened the fifty-six-year-old letter, the paper aged to a dull brown. Heart beating rapidly, his skin broke into a cold sweat the minute he'd loosened the envelope's flap from its weakened adhesive seal, and he stared nervously at the handwritten message that was neatly folded inside.

He felt paralyzed. Against his better judgement, he'd requested Jarvis, Stark's supercomputer to provide him with a narrative of Margaret Carter's life. She came from a distinguished family whose father was a decorated General in the British Army. As an only child, her father's notoriety given her many opportunities that were rare for females of her generation, especially advancement within the military. She began her career as an Air Force Nurse, her hard work earning her a position in the S.A.S. (Special Air Service) namely British Special Forces. From there she was transferred to the S.S.R.

After he was officially declared MIA, Peggy continued her work with the S.S.R. (Strategic Scientific Reserve) for four years until she retired from active service. She then returned to university and brushed up on Business and Economics, minoring in Science and Architecture. In 1952, she moved to New York where she immediately landed a highly successful career as a project coordinator.

He'd spent nearly twenty minutes conjuring excuses on why he shouldn't read the letter, but Rogers eventually relented. With a deep, shaky breath, he unfolded the pages and began to read Peggy's strong, flowing cursive.

x - x - x

_August 15, 1955_

_To My Dearest Steve,_

_I'm hoping against hope that this letter somehow finds you._

_Yes, I know how mad this seems but I've stubbornly cherished the fantasy that you've miraculously survived the crash with the help of your new body. There were so many things that I wanted to tell you in the short time that we'd known each other...and I thought I'd take the time to tell you now._

_From the moment I first met you, I knew you were different. A little naive and idealistic, perhaps, but your heart was always in the right place. Dr. Erskine knew this and so did I. Of course, it took some time, but Colonel Phillips eventually saw the value in you, both as a man and as a soldier._

_...Oh, God, I miss you so much!_

_The first month after you disappeared was the hardest to bare. I couldn't sleep, I hardly ate, I dove into my work like a madwoman hoping it distracted me long enough from dwelling on thoughts of you. Strangely enough, the one person who helped me through this difficult ordeal was Howard Stark._

_No. We were never romantically involved. We stayed in touch and he was a good friend. He was the one who suggested a change of scenery. _

_So, one day, I did just that._

_I returned to school to pursue other interests, and I admit, living the life of a civilian made me miss the regimented environment of serving in the military._

_When I graduated, I stared at a map of the world and wondered where to go. After all, starting a new life was a monumental decision._

_When Howard suggested New York City, I was very hesitant. (My first two choices were either Switzerland or Monaco.) America's so far removed from what I knew...but perhaps that's what led me to ultimately choose that road._

_I sold my home in Winchester and moved to New York where I was offered an entry level position at Holten, Merrill & Rawn Architecture. Unfortunately, my past credentials were meaningless. All they saw was a female foreigner. It could have been a daunting obstacle but I merely saw it as another challenge. When my coworkers and especially my bosses realized that I wasn't easily intimidated, they began to respect me._

_You're probably wondering why I hadn't asked Howard for help? Though he offered to take care of me professionally and financially, I politely declined. It was my chance for a new beginning and I wasn't inclined to cheat my way past the struggle._

_I lived one day at a time, worked hard at the firm, familiarized myself with the city I lived in and took vacation days off to tour the rest of America. Every so often Howard came to visit me and we talked over dinner. He remained a consultant for the S.S.R. and he felt personally obligated to inform me of whatever progress they'd made to try and find you. He then kept me appraised on their agenda...despite my insistence that it was truly none of my business anymore...but he heedlessly rambled on. The man could be insufferable sometimes._

_In spite of New York's internationally acclaimed night life, I wasn't much of a party girl. Mingling with crowds in bars and nightclubs held a certain distaste for me, but I went occasionally to pass the time._

_Eventually, I settled into a comfortable rhythm. I found joy in my new career, made new friends and called New York my home…_

_...until my comfortable rhythm was disrupted by someone I worked with._

_His name is David Lewis. He transferred to the firm and immediately began to make his mark. Worst of all, I'd caught his eye._

_I thought he'd given up asking me out for a date after I constantly refused him, but he was persistent, I'll give him that._

_After nearly a year and a half...I conceded to a date with him._

_x - x_

_...I always found the nights so very long…_

_I think of you often, especially at night. I wonder where you are and what you're doing. If you're appreciating your new life as much as I'm slowly growing accustomed to mine._

_Oh, how I wish we had more time!_

_Why weren't we granted more time?_

_I would've liked to have had more memories of you...of us, in my mind._

_x - x_

_I write to you now in the hope that you'll forgive me._

_I was prepared to wait for you till I was old and grey...and I still do...but now I do it in secret._

_I know this isn't fair at all to David...I know it's selfish but…_

_I can't stop loving you._

_I will always love you, please, remember that._

_The part of me that refuses to let you go is the only thing that keeps me...sane._

_It's a contradiction but it's the best description of how I am now, of how I will always be._

_I will always be yours, my love._

_Allow me now to live...for both of us._

_Yours Forever,_

_Peggy Carter_

_x - x - x_

His fingers numb and shaking, a heartbroken Rogers silently wept for the great love he had lost and for a life that might have been as the handwritten pages gently drifted to the floor.

* * *

><p>In the Aesir realm of Asgard, the hall of Bilskirnir towered majestically within the walled citadel. Boasting 640 rooms, its high-ceilinged, airy interior and open windows were a welcoming sight to all who visited or dwelt within it. Just as it was the main living space for Odin's sons, it was also designed, if needed, to house the overflow of Einherjar from Valhalla.<p>

Walking briskly out of the gentle summer rain, Lady Sif expertly navigated her way through the hall's main corridors. She past the many guest quarters, Loki's main bedchamber, and up a winding staircase to the hall's owner. When she found the door wide open, she stepped inside.

"Thor? What are you doing?" Sif asked, suspicion plain on her face. She drew nearer and watched the All-Father's eldest as he made adjustments to his enchanted battle armor.

"What it looks like," Thor answered simply. "It would take too long a wait for Bifrost to heal itself. I must find another way into Midgard."

"Then I shall come with you," Sif replied with a stubborn set to her jaw.

"Do as you wish," Thor sighed after a momentary pause.

Resting on a table beside the pedestal for his battle armor, he glanced at his winged helm, a set of golden bracers and a special golden belt, Mengingjardar, that Odin had presented together with his mighty hammer, Mjollnir.

"Be warned that the road I seek is immensely perilous...or so Heimdall has hinted."

"Heimdall?" Sif said in shock. "It was _he_ that told you of - ?"

"More like _whispered_," Thor interrupted calmly, chuckling when Sif slapped a hand over her mouth. "I leave at nightfall."

"Thor...your father…"

"May try to stop me if he wishes," Thor replied. "...but I intend to set foot on Midgard by then."

"You weren't planning to leave without us, were you?" Fandral the Dashing asked suddenly.

Thoroughly startled, Thor and Sif turned to stare at him.

Casually leaning against the entranceway to Thor's master bedchamber, the golden-haired swordsman smiled impishly. Beside him, Hogun the Grim stood rigidly with crossed arms and Volstagg the Voluminous peeked through the doorway, his hand waving cheerfully.

"My friends, forgive me, but I had every intention of going alone," Thor stated.

"Did you truly think any of us would let you do something that _foolish_?" Fandral countered with a quirk of his lip.

"Neither would Heimdall, I suspect," Sif said. "He may have already told your father where you're going."

"Where _are_ we going?" Volstagg asked curiously.

"I'm to meet Heimdall tonight at the edge of Bifrost with full provisions and armaments for the journey," Thor imparted. "He promised to tell me of my route once I've arrived."

"Then we have much to do," Hogun spoke slowly.

Sighing inwardly, Thor knew that no amount of arguing would dissuade his friends from coming with him.

Later that day, as the sun sank below the Asgardian horizon and the night deepened, a small traveling party quietly left the protective walls of the Aesir citadel on foot, the group rendezvousing at the slowly regenerating edge of the Bifrost bridge where Heimdall stood waiting.

"Am I to assume that your companions have joined you without your consent?" Heimdall said, one brow raised high in emphasis as he surveyed the additional faces behind Odin's eldest son.

"They've chosen to come with me despite my disapproval," Thor replied, frowning slightly, earning him a playful slap on the back from a grinning Volstagg.

"A final warning then," Heimdall's deep baritone remarked, "that alternate ways into Midgard have only been attempted by a few skilled adventurers who were fortunate enough to survive."

"Sounds exciting," Fandral interrupted, clearing his throat apologetically when the Golden Gatekeeper's gaze shifted sharply to him.

"Tell us the way," Thor said impatiently, his urgency entirely fueled by emotion.

"The only other direct way into Midgard is through a portal hidden somewhere in Muspellheim."

An anxious hush blanketed Thor and his friends.

Though Asgardians were taught the basic topographical layout of every one of the Nine Worlds, they were also warned of the dangers. Certain worlds were commonly avoided unless one sought an untimely death at the hands of its feral denizens and appointments weren't necessarily a guarantee for safe passage.

Ljossalfheim (Land of the Ljossalfar/Light Elves) and Nidavellir (Land of the Duergar/Dwarves) were open to travel with some precaution. The Alfar and Duergar were known for cleverly exacting heavy tolls, if for any reason, they disliked their guests. The exception was Vanaheim, a realm that was widely known to welcome travelers of all kinds from the Nine Worlds and beyond. As long as visitors politely behaved themselves and adhered to the strict rules of Vanir hospitality, it was possible to stay for longer periods, some to the point of asking for permanent residency.

In addition to the obvious travel ban to specific parts of Jotunheim, worlds that even the curious refrained from exploring were the oppressively hot and charred grounds of Muspellheim; the long, lethal evenings of Svartalfheim (Land of the Dökkálfar/Dark Elves); the foggy, bitter cold of Niflheim, and the Land of the Dead, Helheim.

"Thick, black smoke covers much of Muspellheim's lands and the skies above it," Hogun mentioned first, "making it difficult to tell night from day."

"I heard that the smoke is deadly poisonous in some areas too," Volstagg added with a nod. "More importantly, there's the everlasting heat from the many endlessly erupting volcanoes and lava flows. We'd be wise to bring a large supply of water."

"The Burning Land?" Sif exclaimed in apprehension. "How in Mimir's Well are we to _find_ this portal? No detailed map of Muspellheim exists and there's a good chance we may all be lost or fall into a deadly trap made by the fire-etins while trying to navigate that flaming ash-pit!"

"There _is_ one who lives there that knows of the portal's whereabouts..._if_ you can persuade him to guide you there," Heimdall explained plainly with a small, mocking smile.

"Surt the Black," Thor answered correctly, "the Lord of Muspellheim."

"Rather insurmountable odds, wouldn't you agree?" Fandral mused out loud, twirling the tip of his mustache and looking thoughtful rather than discouraged.

"Daunting, yes, but with the proper aid," interrupted a warm, feminine voice, "success is within your grasp."

"Lady Freya!" Thor and his friends cried out in unison, gaping in surprise as she instantly revealed herself in their midst. She wore a long, shimmering grey cloak over a simple pale-green traveling gown, her wavy, ankle-length, sun-kissed hair was gathered and braided in an intricate pattern. Stalks of wheat and wildflowers were interspersed between the strands.

Heimdall inclined his head in greeting, unfazed by her sudden appearance.

"You will help us?" Thor asked eagerly, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"My brother sails for Vanaheim tonight once our father returns," Freya informed them. "Frey has offered to take you all on his voyage home."

"Glad tidings indeed," Thor said with relief, clasping Freya's hands in gratitude.

"Come, let us hasten to Noatun. Adjustments to your provisions must be made," Freya replied, leading the way.

"A swift journey to you and your companions, Odinson," Heimdall said before turning away to resume his watch at the edge of the slowly regenerating Bifrost.

Thor glanced in gratitude to Asgard's Gatekeeper as he and his friends departed, following closely behind Lady Freya who subtlety created a mystical conduit to her father's hall. In the blink of an eye, Bifrost's rainbow-lit pathway faded and they were treading the sandy coastline outside the walled citadel into a small bay where dozens of ships of various sizes were anchored.

Just ahead was Noatun, a great, arched structure with architectural aspects that alluded mainly to the craft of shipbuilding. Wide, open windows lined the top of the hall, allowing the sea breezes to constantly blow through and every manner of sea bird flew freely inside, roosting in flocks on the roof beams above. (Out of respect for their host, the birds never left droppings inside.)

In a courtyard beside the main structure was a lovely walled garden filled with lush flora, many not native to Asgard, and it was a place that Sigyn, Njord's foster daughter, favored very much. Mingled with the saltwater air was the scent of many varieties of rosemary, Njord's favorite herb, that bloomed and covered the hills around his hall.

Leaving their weapons and supply bags near the entrance, Thor and his friends were led through Noatun's corridors.

As the Vanir Sea-King of ships and sailing, the interior of Njord's hall was decorated to reflect that role. Curtains and tapestries were made from fish netting, bows of ships made up every hearth, sideboards were turned into tables, as were keels, wheels and masts - every piece of furniture was carved or constructed from the wood of salvaged sunken ships or decommissioned ones. During the day, Njord and the Vanir folk that populated the hall (along with a few, rare highborn Alfar) busied themselves with ship building, woodcarving or net-mending done specifically for the Asgardian locals. (Noatun was built to mirror Njord's homeland hall in Vanaheim which housed a similar business but with no customer preferences.)

At a long table where a dinner feast of seafood, vegetables and fruit were laid out, sat Frey and a smiling Sigyn, both happily conversing with Skirnir, an Alf who was both a loyal friend and right hand to the Vanir fertility god, Frey. Attending to them were a middle-aged Alfar couple, Byggvir and Beyla, Frey's personal servants who were always at his side.

Like his twin sister, Frey was tall with Spring-green eyes, endowed with a face and body that was extremely and irresistibly attractive. He wore his long, wavy blond hair loosely, the thick strands falling halfway down his back. The upper portion was braided to keep it in place and away from his eyes, the strands equally interlaced with wheat and small blossoms.

"Brother," Freya greeted with a delighted smile as she walked toward him.

After the twin siblings embraced each other warmly, she and Sigyn exchanged pecks on the cheek and forehead while the Alf, Skirnir, dipped low to kiss Freya's hand as she curtsied back.

"Forgive our intrusion," Thor said courteously as he and his friends' arrival had interrupted their host's dinner. Although, in the back of his mind, he had the distinct feeling they were expected.

"Thor, Lady Sif, Warriors Three, welcome to Noatun, our father's hall," Frey greeted with open arms and a wide, bright smile. "Come, join us for dinner while we await our father's arrival."

"Our humble gratitude for your hospitality at this late hour," Thor said formally as he and his companions sat down at the table. They were promptly served tankards of strong beer.

"Please, help yourselves," Frey insisted, and with a knowing smile, added, "the food will give you strength for the travel ahead."

_Does everyone in Asgard know my intendments?_ Thor thought irritably since he had originally prepared to go on his voyage alone.

As if sensing Thor's vexation, Freya touched his arm in reassurance.

"Your father is unaware of your departure tonight, though he will be greatly displeased to discover your absence," Freya said softly. "By then, we will ensure that you and your friends are well within Muspellheim's borders."

"'_We_'?" Thor replied with a brow raised. He surveyed the faces around him at the table in accusation. "Have you _all_ known my plans from the beginning?"

Clearing his throat, Fandral replied truthfully, "Not _all_ of us."

Frey, Freya and Sigyn exchanged loaded glances. If the Alf, Skirnir, knew anything about what was happening, he gave no indication.

"I've been mindful of your urgent reason for returning to Midgard," Freya confessed, "since the day you allowed Sigyn and I to share your grief."

"I'm told it's _love_ that drives your quest," Frey grinned playfully, noting the brief frown on Sif's face. "She must be quite a woman for you to brave such a dangerous crossing."

"She is," Thor replied with sincerity and failed to see Sif's crestfallen gaze. "Jane Foster is a woman unlike any I have ever met. Though mortal, her strength of will and her generous heart surpasses that of her fragile form...and she moves me in a way I..." He faltered, looking uncomfortable, as if he'd spoken impulsively of things best kept to himself.

"Say no more," Frey said jubilantly, clapping Thor loudly on the back. "A toast, then, to the stirrings of love within your chest and may the Guardians of the Four Directions reveal the ideal way to whom you seek."

Everyone raised their tankards of strong, honeyed beer high above their heads, saluting Thor in unison and each took a sip of the fine Vanir brew that was Frey's personal supply.

"I am grateful to you all for your help," Thor replied humbly.

"Thank us _after_ you've set foot in Midgard and kissed your woman," Frey said with a wink.

Their journey momentarily forgotten, Thor and his friends yielded to their Vanir hosts, filling their bellies with the abundance of food and strong beer. When dinner was finished, everyone present began to discuss or present options for an ideal route into the World of Fire.

"How is it possible that a portal to Midgard is allowed to exist in Muspellheim?" Hogun asked, puzzled. Though he'd been with Thor, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three on many grand adventures throughout the Nine Worlds, Midgard, the world of mortals, was largely ignored. "Are not Midgard's borders heavily protected by Jormundgand, the Great Serpent, The Living World-barrier? Only Bifrost has been known to pass through it."

"As Lord of the Burning Land and oldest of the living Jotnar in existence, only Surt the Black can answer that question," Skirnir remarked, "however, I highly doubt he'll feel inclined to tell you or anyone else."

"Once we are anchored in Vanaheim, we will need to find the _quickest_ route through Jotunheim," Sif interjected, returning to the subject of their journey to accompany Thor. "Our presence there is most unwelcome."

"I wonder how _that_ was caused?" Volstagg teased, staring at Thor who fidgeted in acknowledgment. "It would be preferable to avoid setting foot in Jotenheim altogether. Further provoking the Jotnar would be very unwise."

"Agreed," Fandral replied concisely, emptying the beer in his silver tankard and Noatun's Vanir servants instantly poured him a refill.

"A foray into Jotnar territory won't be necessary," Freya divulged to Thor and his friends' surprise. "Though rarely used, we have a way into Muspellheim from our homeland."

"For the expediency of trade and diplomatic visits, a bridge between the Burning Land and Vanaheim was established long ago. For security and seclusion, the portal is located in a sacred grove near my matrimonial home in the Barri Woods," Frey explained. "Members of my family are allowed to use it unconditionally while the rest require explicit permission. As we speak, our father has already sent word to Surt the Black of your impending arrival."

"I see," Thor said softly, taken aback by the amount of aid he was unexpectedly receiving. Accustomed to traveling solely by Bifrost - something that all the Aesir were distinctly taught and instructed to use - it was quite a revelation to learn of _other_ direct pathways between the worlds. He then wondered how many of these lesser known routes Loki had known of and had traveled personally.

At the thought of his brother, Thor's face fell, a look that many noted and politely ignored, save Freya, who gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze.

"There is, however, a slight condition to your passage to Muspellheim," Frey mentioned casually, gaining Thor and his friends' full attention.

"I knew this was too good to be true," Fandral muttered and sighed, draining his second tanker of the flavorful amber liquid. Certain types of Vanaheim beer were highly sought after in Asgard, but it was a rare pleasure and privilege to partake of Frey's personal, exclusive brew.

"The condition is that I join you on your journey to Midgard," Sigyn spoke clearly, her tone leaving no room for refusal.

"Only the women in my family know the incantation to open the portal to Muspellheim. Since I cannot come with you, the responsibility falls to Sigyn," Freya replied smoothly before Thor could protest. "Take heed, Thor, our little sister's well-educated and exceptionally skilled in the mystical arts. She will be of great use to you and your friends, and she is not to be underestimated."

Thor's friends stayed silent when Freya's gaze glared imperiously at them, as if daring them to dispute her words. Thor, however, was customarily outspoken.

"I do not doubt Sigyn's skill. I know that she has been well trained, both by you, Freya and her Alfar teachers," Thor began, "but our journey is no place for a child."

"I am no longer a child!" Sigyn protested hotly. "Why can you not see that?"

"Thor," Freya spoke firmly. "Sigyn's reasons for coming with you are her own. You _will_ need her help on your quest to Midgard. There will be no further dispute of this matter."

Both Freya and Thor stood their ground as they stared fiercely at each other, neither willing to bend their stubborn opinion on the subject of Sigyn's conditional admittance to their traveling party.

"Ah! Father's home!" Frey exclaimed with relief, interrupting the dark exchange of emotion between Odin's eldest and his twin sister.

"Odinson, Warriors Three," Njord greeted his guests before smiling brightly and embracing his twin children and foster daughter. His face then turned serious as he addressed Thor, "I trust everyone is ready to depart? Expediency is needed if you all desire to evade detection." Those concerned understood the gravity of his words. "Thor," he began, when he saw the reluctance in eyes of Odin's eldest. "A swift and successful journey to you and your companions." He glanced affectionately at Sigyn who nodded solemnly. "Take good care of her, Odinson. She will be of great help to you in your quest."

Inwardly sighing, Thor knew that his objections were futile. If Njord had given Sigyn his blessing to depart with them...he had no recourse but to accept.

"I promise to return Sigyn to you unharmed," Thor vowed and exchanged a strict affirmation by solidly grasping the Vanic King's forearm.

"I expect that you will," Njord smiled and spared another glance toward his foster daughter. "May you both find what you're searching for."

Aboard Skidbladnir, Frey's enchanted ship, Thor and his traveling companions took stock of their provisions and rested. Crossing into Vanaheim was quick and efficient since Noatun, Njord's Aesir hall, was strategically built on a shore opposite his homeland dwelling; having calculated the closest possible route for his hostage-family's scheduled homecomings.

On a rocky outcrop of the largest northern bay in Vanaheim stood Njord's hall: a tall, white, arched building. Below, a small fleet of ships were anchored, the area constantly ablaze with activity. Being the celebrated agricultural basket of the Nine Worlds guaranteed a steady flow of trade from Vanaheim's ports.

Just after dawn, Skidbladnir glided gently to its designated golden moorings where a group of Vanir folk had gathered, ready and waiting to welcome them ashore. The group swarmed Frey's enchanted ship with systematic efficiency, unloading its entire cargo in mere moments. Once its storage holds were emptied, the enchanted ship reverted to the size of a toy which Frey could then easily carry around with him.

Because of the urgency of Thor's quest, Frey delayed his customary stop to his father's hall and immediately escorted the small traveling party on a selection of their finest Alfar-bred steeds to his matrimonial cottage in the Barri woods.

Located on the eastern shore nearest Jotunheim, the Barri woods was the largest stretch of magical golden-leaved trees in Vanaheim. Here, the trees were the tallest, their likeness not found anywhere else on the fertile continent, and if asked about them, the local folk would declare that the stock was indeed of Jotnar origin, traded or gifted to them by their etin neighbors. The trees' unique characteristics were highly pronounced, especially in the winter when the entire woods stayed bright and golden, permanently untouched by frost. It was currently late summer in Vanaheim and the Barri Woods was seen as a stark patch of gold against lush green growth, and only in the autumn season were the golden leaves complementary to the surrounding forests.

On route to the exclusive portal to Muspellheim was Frey's hall, more fondly called by the locals as 'Frey's Place' and it was a sanctuary he shared with his Jotun life-mate, Gerda. Skirnir, along with Frey's personal servants, Beyla and Byggvir rode ahead of them to alert Frey's household of his arrival. Soon enough, Thor and his party came upon a wide grove and in the middle was a structure that appeared to be made entirely of intricately woven patterns of golden corn. Beside the large cottage was a heavily warded, high-walled area that protected Gerda's private garden of herbs, flowers and vegetables that visitors were only allowed to see with her explicit permission.

As they dismounted near the entrance to Frey's Place, Gerda emerged to greet her husband. She was tall, pale-skinned with dark eyes in a head held high and had long, elaborately braided tresses that hung past her knees; her hair with a rich, dark color similar to freshly turned earth. On her ample but strong body, she wore a loose, concealing dress in a warm but subdued rusty red. At first glance, one would wonder how such a simple, frigidly composed woman had captured the heart of the rambunctious and devastatingly attractive Vanir fertility god...but to those who knew her intimately, Gerda was _much_ more than her reserved nature, possessing a fiery passion that rivaled her husband's.

Frey bounded happily and excitedly from his rune-charmed horse, Blodighofi, more than eager to reunite with his life-mate whose company he'd longed for. However, rather than toppling his beloved to the ground and ravishing her with kisses, he stopped short. Reigning in his enthusiasm, he greeted Gerda publicly with more of a quiet formality, the couple exchanging a chaste but loving embrace. Next in line to greet Gerda was Sigyn, who openly flung her arms around the etin woman with a beaming smile, while Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three inclined their heads stiffly in salutation. Although there was no animosity between them, Gerda was wary of all who dwelt in Asgard, having been taught from birth that they were never to be trusted.

"I must hasten to send Thor and his companions through the portal," Frey informed Gerda. "They are expected." He then took her hands in his and said, "Will you accompany me there, beloved?"

"Yes, I shall come with you," Gerda said with a nod and added quietly. "I have missed you, Golden One."

Proudly grinning from ear to ear, Frey whistled for his horse and hoisted Gerda by the waist to sit snugly between his legs on the large saddle. After instructing his personal servants to prepare a reunion feast for him and his life-mate, he departed with Skirnir and Thor's traveling party toward the mystical passage to Muspellheim.

As they rode the short distance to their destination, Thor couldn't help but glance repeatedly at the enigmatic Gerda, the earth-giantess who had captured Frey's heart. He remembered his own opposition to their marriage and realized with deep regret, how foolishly he had acted. Ironically, he now faced a parallel dilemma: he'd fallen in love with a _mortal_. His own choice of a potential life-mate was just as difficult and 'mismatched' as theirs.

Heavily protected by powerful wards was the sacred grove where the portal was hidden. Sigyn was the first to dismount, and using an incantation taught to her by Freya, she permitted them safe passage into the grove, while Skirnir stayed behind, preferring to tend to the horses.

As they approached the exact spot of the portal, an area of about three feet around it was dry and ashen, a final warning to whoever was foolish enough to brave the lesser known pathway.

"Frey, I owe your family a debt of gratitude for your generosity," Thor said solemnly, clasping the radiant man's arm tightly.

"As I've told you before, thank my family _after_ you've found and kissed your woman," Frey replied with a laugh.

"Till we meet again," Thor said with a smile.

The small traveling party was instructed by Sigyn to stand in a circle facing outward in the center of the darkened ground.

"Odinson."

Everyone was startled, including Frey, when Gerda had spoken. Her voice seemed to pierce the air around them.

"Do you love this mortal?" Gerda asked. There was genuine curiosity in her eyes.

The Warriors Three and Sif were tense when Thor stayed silent as he regarded Gerda with a steady gaze.

"Yes," Thor answered and his eyes never wavered. "With all my heart."

At those words, Sif bit her tongue till it bled. Though her outward appearance gave no indication, she endured the pain of her beating heart as it slowly tore itself to pieces within her chest.

"Brace yourselves," Sigyn warned. "This won't be pleasant."

Thor locked eyes with Gerda till he, Sigyn and his friends disappeared into the portal.

* * *

><p>to be continued<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

***Please return from time to time to 'Warriors & Magic Wielders' for Loki and Thor flashbacks in Asgard. (Story found in Thor section.)***

The S.S.R. (Strategic Scientific Reserve) later morphs into S.H.I.E.L.D.

Sadly, Frey and Gerda's union was filled with ugly objection and outrage, mainly from those who dwelt in Asgard and Ljossalfheim.

I'm sure some of you have noticed that I've made a major change. It suddenly occurred to me that Loki's human name was too blatantly obvious (duh) when he introduces himself, so I decided to tweak his surname to 'Laoki' rather than the previously written 'Loki'. (my long-time readers will attest to this) I feel rather embarrassed for not considering that fact sooner. ^_^;

Speaking of the Avengers...I've decided to transfer this story over from Thor to the Avengers category since I think it's more appropriate.

(I blame the steadily increasing role of the fledgling Avengers team in my story.)

What do you guys think of the story's new home? I think the Thor category is better suited to stories that directly relate or concentrate mostly on Asgard, Thor and Loki which this story (I think) is increasingly deviating from. The Avengers are taking more of an active role - surprisingly unintentional but it became inevitable. (^_^;)

To my faithful readers, I'm curious to know what you guys think! Drop me a line stating your opinion on whether this story is better suited to the Thor or Avengers Category from what you've read so far.

Please forgive my long absence between updates and THANK YOU EVERYONE for all your comments and reviews!

I extend my heartfelt gratitude to everyone's continued support of this story!

Let Chaos Reign!

(=^_^=)


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